


Fragile

by pastelkanan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Aquariums, Canon Compliant, Communication, Developing Relationship, First Dates, Injury, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 02, Rating May Change, Self-Hatred, Vampire Bites, Vampire Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-02-14 02:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12997428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelkanan/pseuds/pastelkanan
Summary: Maybe "space explorer" wasn't the best career for a vampire, even in the modern age, but that never stopped Shiro from trying. What could go wrong? As it turned out, a lot of things, including but not limited to: Being kidnapped by aliens, being forced to participate in a gladiator arena by said aliens, getting an arm sawed off and replaced with a metal one, premature aging, and murder. Oh, yeah, and being deprived of human blood from the moment of the kidnapping, then being faced with a choice regarding his nature as a vampire. A choice where both of the options were really, really terrible.All in all, Shiro probably should have picked a different career path.-Or, the one where I revisit my 2012 vampire phase with one of my current day ships because I'm a huge dork ¯\_(ツ)_/¯





	1. Nobody is Afraid of Vampires Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly y'all I've had this first chapter sitting in my Google Docs for literal months so I figured it was time to post it lmao,,, idk if this is gonna be any good or very interesting or anything because it's basically a huge fucking vampire/human cliche but HERE WE ARE so pls enjoy if possible

   It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what the hardest thing about being a space explorer was for a vampire. Growing up on Earth, Shiro had never had any trouble; people like him were given assistance in the form of a month’s supply of government regulated and approved blood packs on the first day of each month. It was… embarrassing. It shouldn’t have been, considering that a decent chunk of the world’s population was some kind of creature that had once been considered to be a myth, but saying the words  _ I’m a vampire _ and the fact that packages full of single-serve bags of blood were delivered to his doorstep was almost too much to deal with. It reminded him that he wasn’t  _ normal _ , wasn’t  _ human _ .

   But Takashi Shirogane was no quitter. He wasn’t the kind of person to lay down and give up. He was a fighter, even if the opponent he had to fight was a part of himself. Vampire genes be damned, he had decided at a young age that he wanted to join the Garrison and go out into space. So he did. He worked hard every single day of his life, teaching himself self-control and discipline, putting himself through hell to get the nearly flawless grades he knew he’d need, training hard and rarely taking any breaks longer than his nightly eight hours of sleep. Even though the Garrison didn’t like to accept any non-human applicants, he had an impressive application. Stellar grades, impressive leadership history, a solid list of community services he had participated in, awards in academics and sports… When it came to him, the “Species” section of the application held no sway. The Garrison needed more students like him.

   He got in. He met and befriended Keith and the Holts, Matt and his father Sam. Knowing that he had to continue to be ten times better than the average human student to ensure that he was allowed to stay, he kept working. Kept pushing himself. It wasn’t long before he stopped using his entire month’s supply of the blood packs and started having leftovers. He never even stopped to think that maybe he was stretching himself too thin and asking for too much from his body; it wasn’t that he didn’t get thirsty or didn’t get cravings, of course, but that he worked so hard so much that he forgot to take care of himself. When he remembered and actually put the blood to good use, he drained a pack or two or three in one sitting and that was that until the next time he remembered in a couple of weeks. It wasn’t healthy, but he always told himself that it was alright. He wouldn’t have an infinite supply of blood when he graduated and went out into space, so he was doing himself a favor by training himself to not drink much.

   It was bullshit and he knew it. He knew that, no matter how much logic he tried to apply to the situation, it was happening because he was terrified that he’d be kicked out of the Garrison and wouldn’t be able to achieve his goals if he stayed true to his vampirism. He refused to let that happen.

   The day finally came when he graduated. Keith was upset that Shiro was about to leave him all alone and go all the way out to fucking  _ Kerberos _ , but it wasn’t like Shiro had chosen his destination. Sure, he had signed up to be a potential candidate for the Kerberos mission, but he hadn’t expected to actually get picked. Kerberos was a moon of Pluto, over a whopping two-and-a-half  _ billion _ kilometers away from Earth at the time the mission was to take place. What were the odds of them actually picking him to be put on a ship with a couple of  _ humans _ and sent out that far? Wasn’t anyone worried that he might kill them out there?

   Apparently, they weren’t too concerned about that possibility, no, because there he was. On the ship headed for Kerberos with Matt and Sam. For a little while there, he forgot all of his fears. His dreams were coming true. He was getting out there, among the planets and stars, going to be one of the first people to go out that far. He and the other two were going to collect samples and run tests and do all kinds of science-y shit that nobody had done before. Even though there were blood packs on the ship for him, for a little while, he forgot about his nature until one of the Holts would tap him on the shoulder and hand him a pack. They, at least, were looking out for his health. They kind of had to, really, considering that he didn’t do it himself.

   For once in his life, Shiro really felt like everything would be okay.

   And then the Galra kidnapped him.

   It was all downhill from there.

   Suddenly he wasn’t staying up late and waking up early because he wanted to, but because he had no choice. He was pushed around and beaten and bruised, time and time again he was sent out into the arena to fight for his life and then thrown back into his cage and left for dead. His body, once pristine in its youth, was marred by scars and wrinkles born from his distress. He could do nothing but observe in horror as his hair, once shiny black and beautiful, began to whiten far before its time. He was thrown into the arena again, heard the roaring cheers of a crowd hungry for death, and fought until the beast before him was dead and he couldn’t stop himself from falling into unconsciousness. He woke up to find himself strapped to a bed, surrounded by Galra medics, one of which was holding some kind of surgical tool he had never seen before. Struggling against his bonds was useless and he watched with wide, wild eyes as the surgeon lowered the tool to his arm and began to cut. Skin. Nerves. Muscle. Bone. It all went. The next time he opened his eyes, he had a new arm. Stronger. Metal. A weapon. He tried to separate it from his body, to take it off and throw it aside because  _ it wasn’t his _ and he wanted nothing to do with it. He screamed and sobbed and begged, desperate to get rid of the damned thing. To be freed. To no longer have to be the warrior they forced him to be. But his cries fell on deaf ears and he was thrown back into the arena. 

   They called him  _ Champion.  _

   Then, after all the time he had been forced to endure the horrors of the arena alone, someone else was thrown into his cell with him. A scared little alien boy, catlike and covered in blue fur, looking around with nervous eyes and crying with broken mewls. Shiro was nice to the kid. He did what he good for the kid, of course he did. The Galra had turned him into a warrior, but at his core, he was still Takashi Shirogane. Takashi Shirogane was always kind to children. 

   He was caring and protective until the day one of the guards hit the boy so hard that the skin broke. His blood was blue, only marginally darker than his fur, but it was different from the blood of the Galra and the beasts that Shiro had faced in the arena. A part of him that had laid dormant as he struggled to survive clawed it’s way back to the surface before he even realized it was happening. He would never forget the look of fear and betrayal on the boy’s face as Shiro held him down. 

   The boy was dead by the time the next guard walked by Shiro’s cell. He had further cemented his own title of  _ Champion _ that day, having taken the life of an innocent being in his lust for blood. He had committed a most heinous crime; while it was, of course, socially acceptable for a vampire to take the life of another in a time of immense need, it was unforgivable to take the life of a child. He saw the boy’s face in his dreams, every single time he closed his eyes. The vampire part of him that had been starving for so long remembered the feel of warm blood sliding down his throat, filling him up and replenishing his strength, even if the taste was subpar compared to humans.

   He woke up on an operating table again and the vampire within him went back into hiding for fear of what may come next. This time, though, was different. He was given aid. He escaped back to Earth, saw Keith again and got to know Lance, Hunk, and Pidge. As Keith told them about his research in the desert, as they went on their little quest and found the Blue Lion, as they fled from the Galra and landed on Allura and Coran’s doorstep, Shiro wasn’t a  _ vampire _ or the  _ Champion _ . For a short time, he was himself. Sure, he was a bit older, wiser, a lot stronger, covered in scars and wrinkles and white hair that no young man should have… he was a walking disaster, but he was  _ himself.  _ Takashi Shirogane. 

   Time passed. Day after day, battle after battle, explosion after explosion—time marched on. The universe waited for none, especially not for him. Never him. All he had wanted when he was a young boy was to go out there and do something, to be a man of the stars, and the universe had fulfilled his wish in a cruel, twisted way that never would have occurred to him when he was a child. He had grown used to it, the fact that the universe seemed to want to make him suffer. He took it all in stride and tried to hold it together, if only for the sake of his team members. He was their senior, their leader, their mentor. He couldn’t afford to break down and cry, couldn’t sit down and take a nap, couldn’t be anything less than a good man they would all continue to be willing to follow. The team was the most important thing, not himself. He forgot his nature. It didn’t matter.

   The universe wasn’t done with him yet. No, it wasn’t enough that he had been abducted by the Galra, forced to fight for his life in the Galra arena, and then roped into a war against the Galra. It wasn’t enough that he had mentally fought the Galra’s  _ leader _ for the Black Lion’s favor and  _ won _ . The universe still had one more surprise for him. One moment he was sitting in the pilot seat of the Black Lion, leading his team against Zarkon, and the next, he was… somewhere. It was dark and cold, somewhere he couldn’t have identified even if he tried. Then he was being discovered and knocked out, taken captive and used. At least, he thought he was being used. He wasn’t sure. His consciousness faded in and out time and time again, only catching glimpses of things. People’s faces. Tools. Test tubes.

   When he woke up and realized that he had a chance to escape, he took it. He ran. He stole a ship and fled, crashed onto an icy planet, had to cauterize his own wound and leave another scar, this one in the shape of his own hand. He stared out into the sky that night and prayed that he would make it out of this alive. When a creature hopped by, somewhat like a rabbit but about five times larger, an urge welled up within him and he grabbed it. Killed it. He drank its blood, which was goopy and disgusting but satisfied his craving, and tore the flesh from its bones to eat. His stomach still growled as he lay awake and tried to convince himself to fall asleep. A desire for something he couldn’t have nagged at him, keeping him awake far longer than he should have been. He needed sleep. He needed rest to be able to continue his quest to get back to the group. A deep desire for blood,  _ human _ blood, wouldn’t let him sleep.

   He didn’t know exactly how long it took for him to be back with the team. Weeks? Months? His hair had grown so much as he had been in, what, that testing facility? Was that what that place had been? He didn’t know. There was so much he didn’t know. When he finally had the chance, he didn’t even know how to get his hair back to the way it had been before… all of whatever it was that had just happened. He had never cut his own hair before; as a child, his mother had done it herself to save money and, when he was older and had his own income, he started to have it cut at barbershops and salons. Why would he ever risk taking a pair of scissors to his own hair when he knew he could trust someone else with it? He ended up looking, well, decent, all things considered. It could have been worse, but he didn’t  _ feel _ like himself again. He felt like a cheap reproduction, like a dollar store knock-off brand. Like the mirror in front of him was a carnival mirror, twisting his appearance into something he wasn’t. But when he reached up and touched the awkward cut of his hair, he knew that his reflection was genuine. 

   Once again, things had changed while he was gone. Even though it was what he had wanted, it was a bit jarring to see Keith in the pilot’s seat of the Black Lion. Keith was in Black, Lance was in Red, Allura was in Blue. His disappearance had thrown everything out of order. How much trouble had they had in trying to fill the void he had left behind? Maybe the Black Lion knew something about him that he didn’t, maybe his captors had changed him while he was missing—Black wouldn’t respond to him. He was no longer the black paladin. He was just… there. A retired mentor. 

   He was no longer needed in battle. His role changed and suddenly he was being left behind at the Castle with Coran as the others went out to fight. Of  _ course _ he was proud of them, of  _ course _ he was glad that they could do it by themselves, and of  _ course _ he was glad that they had managed to form a strong team even without him. They… could do it without him. They didn’t need him anymore. 

   And suddenly he had a lot more free time to think. He thought about a lot of things: About his family back home, the time he had spent in the Garrison, the Galra, the arena, that child he had killed and drained. The team, his role as a paladin, what might have happened to him while he was gone, what happened to everyone  _ else _ while he was gone, the cute bunny he had killed and drained. And he thought about all the time he had spent on Earth, all that time when he had a chance to throw away that worthless pride that kept him from acting on his vampire’s instincts. He could have been taking care of himself then, consuming the blood he  _ needed  _ right alongside the regular human food that he  _ wanted _ and enjoyed. It wasn’t like he would  _ die _ if he didn’t have a steady source of blood—his kind had, thankfully, evolved to be able to survive on  _ human _ food, though they did need an occasional  _ drink _ —but, God, it sucked to be without. 

   Sure, if it got bad enough, he could resort back to the drastic measures he had already taken. He could hunt and kill and drain with ease, temporarily dulling the gnawing craving until the next time it broke through his defenses. He could try the blood of the Galra—it wasn’t like anyone would be  _ mad _ at him for killing one of the fuckers because he wanted blood—or he could go to some planet to find a creature in the woods to consume, but it wasn’t the  _ same.  _ The blood he had tasted out in space wasn’t the same as human blood. None of it tasted right. It was all wrong, this whole thing was wrong. Maybe, he thought, he should have just stayed home. Maybe he should have stuck to more reasonable goals, like getting a good office job with insurance, benefits, and three weeks of vacation. But  _ nooooo.  _ Little Takashi Shirogane just  _ had _ to want to go out into space. Naturally. 

   So there he was, sitting at the dining table with the others, eating a nice meal that Hunk had put love and effort into, all the while thinking to himself that it wasn’t enough and that he’d trade the meal for a single blood pack a thousand times over. And he was ashamed of himself for thinking such a thing. Even out there, billions and billions of kilometers away from the planet where they had been born and raised, Hunk was putting love into each and every meal he served them. Hunk wanted them to eat and stay healthy and strong. He wanted for them to enjoy the food that they ate, wanted to make sure that his friends were all happy. And Shiro was sitting there thinking about how much he wanted something that he, technically, could live without for a good long while. Something he could get from literally any animal that crossed his path. 

   He scarfed down the rest of the food on his plate and excused himself from the table. He needed to be alone right then, to gather his thoughts and make a plan on how he could deal with this. Human blood was off the table for the time being. He didn’t want to kill anyone else, not like the innocent kid he killed just because the boy got cut and was locked in the same cell as he was. Animals really were his only option, then, unless he wanted to start picking off the Galra. After all they had put him through, though, the idea of putting their blood in his mouth made him sick to his stomach. There was no way in  _ hell _ he was going to stoop that low. 

   So. Animals. He’d have to live with it if all animal blood was as goopy and disgusting as the blood of that rabbit thing; it didn’t taste good, not at all, but it killed the craving and kept him on his feet. That was the only thing that mattered. As long as he was able to keep functioning, it didn’t matter how much bad tasting blood he had to swallow. 

   As he left the room, he was unaware of the set of eyes following his movements. 

 

—

 

   So maybe Lance wasn’t always the most observant person in the universe. While everyone else had known it for a long time, Lance had never had any  _ idea _ that Pidge was a girl; he had honestly thought that Pidge was just a guy who didn’t like smelling like a garbage can or taking showers with other—older—guys. No big deal. And then there was also that he probably should have been able to pick up on the fact that Keith was Galra, considering that he had been able to operate that Galra tech just by putting his hand on it. Looking back, both of those things were  _ painfully  _ obvious.

   No wonder his family used to tease him for being gullible. Naive. Unobservant. 

   He didn’t always pick up on things, sure, but it would take an  _ enormous _ amount of stupidity for him to not be able to tell that something was nagging at Shiro. Lance had spent literal  _ years _ looking up to and idolizing that guy, okay, so he had a pretty good grasp on what was and wasn’t normal for him. Shiro had, of course, been just a student when Lance first heard about him. He didn’t have a lot of notoriety or fame or anything like that, not yet, but anyone who knew anything about the Garrison knew that Takashi Shirogane was a perfect student. He was smart, strong, reliable, honest, hardworking… it was only natural for some folks from the school website to interview him for a feature piece on the blog section. God. Lance had read that interview a thousand times. He had printed it out and put it on the wall next to his bed. If someone asked him right then to recite every word of that interview, he was pretty sure he’d be able to do it. He had read the interview, watched the videos of students doing training exercises, and he had  _ definitely  _ set his sights on one day being noticed by Shiro. 

   And then it happened. In a crazy ass turn of events, Lance met Shiro. Lance helped to rescue Shiro from some Garrison fuckheads who wouldn’t listen to anything he had to say. Shiro held out his hand to Lance and… Lance had hesitated to take it. He wished that he could just say, “Oh, yeah, I didn’t shake his hand right away because it was  _ fucking metal _ .” But it wasn’t that easy. Nobody knew just  _ how much  _ time Lance had spent thinking about the man in front of him, how much time he had dedicated to the pursuit of the possibility that Shiro might talk to him one day. In that moment, he had hesitated not because he was frightened, but because it was a literal dream come true. Shiro was looking right at him, talking to him, offering him a hand to shake. It was unreal. It was  _ real.  _

   As much as he would have liked to say that he got over his little hero worship-based crush on Shiro, his mother had always taught him not to lie. Truth be told, his crush on Shiro wasn’t really…  _ little.  _ It was certainly based on hero worship, but the crush was, well, it was kinda huge. He  _ adored _ the guy, but he always did everything in his power to keep it from being obvious. If anyone knew for sure that he had a crush on Shiro, all hell would break loose among the team. He’d never hear the end of it. 

   Lance was not the most observant person in the universe, but he knew that something was bothering Shiro. He could feel it in his gut. Shiro wasn’t okay and he wasn’t sure if anyone else could see it but he  _ hated  _ it. He had come to terms with the fact that he would probably never get to be any type of romantic interest for Shiro, and through that he had contented himself to just be the best friend that he could possibly be. Part of being a good friend was knowing when something was wrong and being there for moral support. 

   He finished his dinner at a regular pace in case Shiro really,  _ really _ wanted to be alone for a little while. He helped Hunk clean the dishes after everyone was done. Once the bowls were all clean and put away, he took a deep breath and started towards Shiro’s room. Paused. Wondered if it was really okay for him of all people to go try to talk to him about whatever was bothering him. Told himself that it was  _ totally  _ okay because they were friends and that was what friends did for each other. Kept walking. Paused again. Questioned himself again. Kept going. 

   It took twice as long to get to Shiro’s door as it would have under normal circumstances, but hey, Shiro was Lance’s hero. Of course he was a bit nervous about trying to go comfort the guy. If comfort was what he needed, anyway. Was he feeling things that could be dealt with by a little emotional support from a friend? Was it worse? Oh, lord. What if he was just grumpy because he hadn’t had sex lately? That’d be  _ suuuuper _ awkward. Like, it wouldn’t be awkward because Lance thought Shiro was some kind of celibate angel, no, it would be awkward because he knew that Shiro was a grown ass man and, even though Lance was  _ technically  _ newly an adult according to laws on Earth, Shiro probably wouldn’t want to talk to him about that kind of stuff. Lance would feel weird for even having asked and Shiro would feel weird about answering honestly and everything would be weird and fucking  _ suck _ . He sent up a small prayer that it was  _ literally _ anything other than that.

   He knocked on the door. “Shiro?” he called. “You in there?”

 

—

 

   Shiro let out a small sigh. “Yeah. Come on in,” he replied. Why was Lance there? Advice, maybe? He was sitting at his desk, reading over the information on his tablet regarding the next mission. There wasn’t room for him in the fight, so the least he could do was make sure that everything went as smoothly as possible for the people who  _ were _ in the fight. 

   The door made that little  _ swish  _ sound as it opened and closed behind Lance. Lance didn’t step any farther into the room, just leaned against the wall next to the door. Maybe Shiro was reading into it too much, but Lance’s posture and placement made it seem like he was anticipating having to make a quick getaway. He was silent for a brief moment before asking, “Are, um, are you okay?”

   Shiro paused. How much did Lance know? The team knew that he wasn’t human, but he had never made his vampiric affairs very public. Did Lance know that it had been well over a year, probably two,  since Shiro last tasted human blood? Did he know that Shiro was thinking about running off to some planet somewhere and killing whatever he could get his hands on? He swallowed and said, “I’m alright. Why?”

   Lance shrugged slightly. “You kinda hurried out of the dining room earlier. I was wondering if you were sick or upset or something. And, I mean, I know I’m not exactly your  _ go-to _ for things like this, but if it’s something you don’t feel like you can talk to Keith or Allura or anyone else about… I just, y’know, want you to know that I’m here for you. You’ve always got everyone’s back. I wanted you to know that I’ll be there to have your back, too.”

   Shiro couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you. That’s… very sweet of you. I’m alright, though. Really. I’ve just been thinking about some stuff.”

   “What kind of stuff? I mean, if you want to talk about it. I might be able to help.”

   He sighed. “I don’t want to bother you with it. It’s not that important.”

   “ _ Shiro _ ,” Lance said, spreading his hands like,  _ come on, dude.  _ “I came to you asking what your problem is. It’s not like you’d be springing your problems on me out of the blue.”

   They fell into silence as Shiro considered it. True, Lance  _ had _ come to  _ him _ to talk about it and not the other way around. Lance was just concerned about his friend. It might even be wrong of him to deny Lance an explanation; he didn’t want to make Lance feel like his opinion or friendship or advice wasn’t worth anything to him. Still, he didn’t want to be a burden on anyone. If Lance knew how shitty he felt because he was a stupid bloodsucker who hadn’t sucked any good human blood lately… he might worry more than he needed to. He might start worrying about Shiro’s health more than was necessary, he might start treating Shiro like Sam and Matt did on the trip out to Kerberos. God, this was so fucked up. Everything was a mess. 

   “I’ve just… had some cravings lately. No big deal,” he decided to say. “I’m making some plans to go hunting somewhere. Just animals, though. I’m not going to kill anyone. I…” He swallowed hard, trying to force the image of that alien boy out of his head. Some might say that it wasn’t his fault, that it was on the Galra for putting him in a locked cage with another person when he had begged them not to do it, but his conscience said otherwise. He should have been able to control himself. He shouldn’t have let himself act like the monster mythology and history said he was. “At least if I kill animals, I won’t be tearing apart a person’s family.”

   Lance tilted his head a little. “Isn’t that a bit unsatisfying, though?”

   “Well… a little, yes. But it’s my best option.”

   Lance looked down at the floor. “Is it, though?” he asked quietly. 

   Oh, no. A sick feeling settled in Shiro’s gut. “It is,” he assured. “It’s the best thing I can do. Don’t worry about it so much.”

   “Look, I don’t know much about it. I’m not like you. I’m human. But… I do know that you must miss human blood, right?”

   “Lance.”

   “I just think that I—”

   “ _ Lance. _ ”

   “What?”

   “If you’re thinking that you could help me out or that I could ask one of the others or  _ anything _ like that, stop it. I won’t do it.”

   Lance sighed in what Shiro assumed was exasperation. “Why not? I’m offering. I… I want to help you if I can. I’m happy to help, really.”

   “I don’t want to hurt you, Lance,” Shiro said firmly. “I don’t want to hurt you and I certainly don’t want to risk  _ killing  _ you. It’s been too long. It would be  _ so _ easy for me to lose myself. I could kill you without even realizing it. You really think I’m going to take you up on your offer when I know how fragile humans are?”

   “I’m not afraid of you, Shiro. And don’t bullshit me with that lame ass  _ you should be  _ line that y’all vampire fucks have been pulling on people for centuries, alright? I’m not gonna listen to that.”

   Shiro rubbed his temple. “God, are all you humans this stubborn? The last time I got hounded like this was on the way out to Kerberos.”

   “It’s just—”

   “No. Seriously, why are you humans always in such a big hurry to put your lives at risk? It’s like you think it would be fun to be killed by a… vampire. People are afraid of war, disease, famine. But nobody is afraid of vampires anymore. They’re all ready to lay down and get the life sucked out of them and I _ don’t get it _ .”

   Lance stared down at his shoes for a long moment. “It’s because we care about you guys,” he finally said. “It’s not that we’re ready to die, not really. It’s because we don’t see you ourselves as  _ humans _ and  _ prey _ and you guys as  _ vampires _ and  _ predators _ . We see you as people the same way we see other humans. People want to help the people they care about, even if it means getting hurt. What mother wouldn’t take drastic measures to help her child? What pair of best friends wouldn’t do whatever they could to help each other out?” He paused, swallowing hard and not daring to look up. His voice was much quieter when he spoke again. “And… what kind of person would I be if I didn’t want to help the guy I’ve looked up to for years?”

   Shiro didn’t reply.

   Lance shook his head and, still avoiding looking at Shiro, lamely muttered, “Sorry. I get it, this was really weird. I’ll just… get out of your hair. We can pretend like this didn’t happen.” He straightened himself from his leaning position against the wall and made to open the door.

   From behind him, he heard a single word spoken as a question.

   “Years?”

   “That’s what I said.”

   “Why?”

   “Why what?”

   “Why have you spent years on me?”

   Lance made a weird sound that was something like a mix between a scoff and a laugh. “Why wouldn’t I?” He turned back around. “When you disappeared that last time, Keith didn’t tell us that you wanted him to take Black. We thought that all we could do was… go around the circle, basically. We all took turns trying to get her to respond. She only responded to him,  _ naturally _ , but… you have no idea how long I sat in there.” He fought against the hot sting forming in his eyes. “The thing is… when I was first looking into going to the Garrison and heard about you, I was impressed. Then I learned more and I found out that you were everything I wished I could be. You were responsible and kind and at the top of your class. People took you seriously. People saw you as a leader, even when you were in school. And I wanted to be like you. I thought that, if I just sat there long enough, if I pleaded with Black long enough, she’d answer and when you came back, well, maybe you’d be impressed. If she answered to me, I wouldn’t just be the silly one everybody makes fun of anymore. But she didn’t answer, Blue shut me out, and the next thing I know, I’m getting Keith’s hand-me-downs. I mean, I love Red, but… that’s another thing that always pissed me off about him,” he said, fully aware of the waver in his voice. “It wasn’t just that he was  _ better _ than me. A  _ lot _ of people have been better than me. But, you know, he was friends with  _ you _ . And a part of me really, really resented him for that.” 

   He knew he needed to stop talking.

   He didn’t stop.

   “I was pissed. I spent a fuckton of my time being so  _ angry _ that I was trying so  _ hard _ and he just blew right by me. And he was at your side because he was  _ good _ , because you  _ liked _ him. And you didn’t even know I existed. I… I wanted to try talking to you, at least once before you shipped out. I had just started that year, y’know. Transferred from another school after I finally convinced my parents the Garrison was where I  _ really  _ wanted to be and that I really would be okay going off-planet. But I never got a chance.” A tear finally managed to work its way past his defenses. He mentally cursed himself for being so weak. “I decided that I wanted to go out there and make something special of myself. I met him, someone who was so effortlessly better than I was, and I resented him. And then I found out he was all buddy-buddy with a guy who I was a  _ huge _ fan of and it got  _ worse _ because I wanted you to notice  _ me _ but you were just friends with  _ him  _ and I hated every single time I saw him next to you from across the cafeteria and I  _ just _ …” 

   God, Shiro probably thought he was crazy. He was vaguely aware of the steady raising of his voice as he had gone on, and now he dropped it down to barely above a whisper. “And now, somehow or another, I get to talk to you all the time. I get to be your friend. I mean, yeah, I’m still hanging on to some of that bitterness towards Keith and I  _ know _ I need to just grow the fuck up and let it go, but it’s so  _ hard _ . I wanted to know you for so fucking long because I thought you were a shining example of what people should be like. Then I met you and I found out that you… you’re somehow even better than I had already imagined. And I want to be useful to you, if I can.”

   The room fell into silence. Lance continued to stare at the floor, occasionally using the back of his hand to wipe tears away from his eyes. He really was a child, wasn’t he? Getting all worked up and crying after Shiro insisted that he wouldn’t accept Lance’s offer. Only children cried after being rejected over something stupid like that. No wonder he was seen as the clown of the group. No matter what he said, no matter what he did, nobody would take him seriously. And now he had broken down in tears in front of his leader while talking about how much he had admired said leader; no matter what had happened, Lance just couldn’t see Keith as the leader the way he saw Shiro. In that moment, life  _ sucked _ . 

   When it became fully clear that Lance didn’t have anything else to say, Shiro sucked in a breath. He stood up and walked over to him. “Lance,” he said. “Look at me.”

   Reluctantly, Lance raised his head. There was a soft smile on Shiro’s face.

   “Sorry,” Lance muttered. “I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

   Shiro reached out and brushed away a little tear. Shivers ran down Lance’s spine. Shiro shook his head and said, “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

   “But…”

   “I’m not the black paladin anymore. I’m not anyone’s leader, but I still feel responsible for you guys. You’re a part of my team, Lance. And I want you to know how much I value you and everything you do.” More tears formed in those blue eyes, twisting Shiro’s heart; had nobody said anything like this to Lance lately? Had nobody been telling him what a good job he was doing? He continued to brush the droplets away. They had no place to mar Lance’s face. “I don’t think of people in terms of _ useful _ and  _ not useful _ . I’m not like that. I measure people according to a  _ much _ different scale. And you know what? You’re doing  _ great _ . You don’t have to try to appeal to my vampire nature to get me to like you. We’re friends now, aren’t we? I appreciate every contribution you make to the team, and I appreciate  _ you _ . It’s just that… as your friend, I can’t bring myself to take you up on that offer and I need for you to understand why. It’s not because I don’t like you. It’s because I do. I can’t hurt the people I care about, Lance. I just can’t do it.”

   “Not even if I’m  _ offering _ ?”

   “Not even then.”

   Lance nodded. At the feeling of Shiro’s hands on his face, thumbs positioned near his eyes to wipe away tears, he had calmed considerably. “Okay,” he said softly. “I understand. But… the offer stays open in case you ever change your mind.”

   Shiro took his hands off of Lance’s face now that he didn’t seem like he was going to cry any more. He smiled and, though he told himself that he would never,  _ ever _ , take Lance up on that offer, he still said, “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

   After Lance left, he returned to the chair he had been sitting in. It took all of his strength to not start banging his head against the desk; he had been careless with his actions and now Lance, arguably the most desperate for validation out of everyone on the team, was offering his  _ literal blood _ to Shiro. 

   The next day, when the Castle was passing by a planet, Shiro had a talk with Allura and Coran. He took a pod down to the surface and went on a hunt, returning only after his stomach was full and a trail of disgusting, dead animals stretched out behind him. 


	2. I Know How it Feels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro finds Lance training late at night. One thing leads to another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a lil bit longer than I meant for it to gomen;; but I'm really happy with this and I had a lot of fun writing it so I hope y'all like it!!

   Shiro had always had such high hopes for Keith. Maybe that expectation had hit him too hard and that was why he kept shirking his Voltron responsibilities to go spend time with the Blade of Marmora, or maybe the  _ discipline issues  _ that had gotten him kicked out of the Garrison were continuing to get in the way of his potential. Regardless of  _ why _ it kept happening, it was  _ stressful.  _ And Shiro was powerless, unable to go out there and pick up the slack that Keith left behind whenever he was missing in a time of need. All he could do was offer advice and make orders from the Castle. It, in a word,  _ sucked.  _

   He did his best to keep his stress under wraps, but it was hard to hide the dark circles under his eyes and the increasingly prevalent wrinkles he shouldn’t have had at his age. He wasn’t even thirty, for God’s sake. How old was he by now? He had his birthday then… this amount of time passed… the rest of the team had shared their ages a while ago; most of them were adults, Pidge being the youngest at, what, fifteen by now? So, based on all of that information, Shiro was… uh, twenty-six? Twenty-seven at the most? Fuck if he knew for sure, but he definitely wasn’t thirty. 

   Precise age didn’t really matter anymore. He just knew that he looked too damn old. 

   Because he had to try to clean up the messes Keith made whenever he was late or missing entirely when the team needed him, Shiro’s ability to take time to go by a planet and kill some animals was extremely limited. He was once again hit with regret. This whole time, he could have been asking them to make regular stops so the team could have a rest and he could do what he needed to do. He hadn’t done that because he didn’t want to appear selfish, didn’t want the others to worry too much, didn’t want to be reduced to his vampiric nature. Because, even though he was still respected as a leader while Keith took Black, he wanted to fit in with the others as much as he could. He wanted his relationships with each of them to be  _ normal.  _ Being treated differently because he was of a different nature had always bothered him on Earth and, somehow or another, that nagging upset had followed him out into space. 

   As he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, he thought to himself that maybe… maybe he should take Lance up on his offer. 

   Then he slapped himself. He was  _ not  _ going to do that. He wasn’t going to take advantage of Lance, he wasn’t going to hurt someone on the team, and he  _ certainly  _ wasn’t going to risk  _ killing _ him. God, what was he even thinking?

   The dull irritation of what felt like a dry patch deep within his throat was the answer. It was a common misconception that it physically  _ hurt _ a vampire to not drink human blood. No, it was more like a half-assed rash in the throat that could only be soothed by that one thing. It was itchy and distracting, but it wasn’t quite enough to get in the way of being a functioning member of society. 

   It wouldn’t stop anyone from functioning, no, it would just make them miserable while they did so. 

   He wasn’t going to let it win. He’d carve out some time somehow, go hunting, and continue to make sure that he never killed anyone ever again. He was Takashi Shirogane, former paladin and an adviser to the current Voltron team—a team tasked with saving the universe from the Galra. He was  _ not _ Takashi Shirogane, vampire. Takashi Shirogane, murderer. 

   When he finally managed to go to sleep, his dreams were filled with blood and death. He woke up in a cold sweat not three hours after he had dozed off, and he knew he wasn’t going to get to go back to sleep. 

   He sighed and got out of bed. 

 

—

 

   Lance’s heart pounded against his ribs as he dodged the robot’s attack. He supposed he should be asleep, warm and cozy in his bed, but after the last fight… everyone else was so far ahead of him. He had to catch up, even if it meant cutting some sleep from his schedule. 

   He hit the ground and rolled to avoid another attack. He came up into a crouch, fired the gun, and watched as the robot jerked and then froze. Just to be safe, Lance fired another shot. 

_    Training level two complete. Beginning training level three. _

   He sighed heavily. Really? He didn’t even get a break? He stood up, as ready to continue fighting as he’d ever be. 

   “End training sequence,” someone said from behind him. He almost jumped out of his fucking skin.

_    Ending training sequence _ , the robot said. The lights in the room dimmed slightly, both because of the end of the sequence and the fact that, currently, it was one of the hours that the Castle logged as nighttime. Lance looked over his shoulder at the door and saw Shiro there, watching with a look on his face that Lance hadn’t seen before. 

   “Why’d you do that?” he asked, trying to sound like he had it all together and wasn’t out of breath at all. 

   “It’s late,” Shiro said. “You should go to bed.”

   “I could say the same to you.”

   Shiro smiled. “Yeah, I guess so.” He walked into the room. “Why are you up? Couldn’t sleep?”

   Lance shook his head. “Haven’t tried. I just… thought this was a good time to get some training done.”

   Shiro gave him a  _ look.  _ Like he knew something was up. “You’re usually excited to go to bed at night. What happened to getting your beauty sleep?”

   Lance ignored the heat of his blush; sure, he called it his  _ beauty sleep _ , but nobody else called it that. “I…” He sighed and crossed the room to the window, staring out into the stars. Shiro joined him. “That fight today. It sucked,” Lance practically whispered. “None of the others take me seriously. I guess I bring that upon myself. And they’re all so much  _ better  _ than I am. Everyone has a  _ distinct  _ role. None of them could be replaced.” He paused. Then, “Except me.”

   “You think you could be replaced?”

   “Easily. You weren’t out there, Shiro. You didn’t see it. I was fucking  _ useless _ today. I’m tired of it.” Unfamiliar constellations stared back at him, distant, silent lights that were nothing like the stars he had seen from his house in Cuba. A pang of homesickness hit him like a punch to the stomach. “I don’t think I belong out here,” he admitted. “Unless I get better real fuckin’ quick… I might as well go home. Let you all find someone else who would be of more use than I am.”

   He continued staring out the window, unaware of the look in Shiro’s eyes. “We could never replace you,” he said. “You’re a part of Voltron. You belong here.”

   Lance scoffed. “Do I, though? Any of you could go out and find someone stronger than me. More serious.” There was a hopelessness in his voice when he said, “Hell, I’m sure it’d be easy to find a better…  _ sharpshooter. _ ” He spat out the word as though it felt wrong in his mouth. “I mean, fuck, who even  _ calls _ themselves that? Dumbasses like me, that’s who. It’s no wonder why everyone acts like I’m just the comic relief.”

   Shiro unconsciously reached out towards Lance. He caught himself, paused, wondered if he should pull back. The tone in Lance’s voice wouldn’t let him do that. He rested his hand—his real,  _ human _ hand—on Lance’s back. “Don’t say things like that. You  _ are  _ our sharpshooter, Lance. You matter. I just wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

   Lance looked over at Shiro. “What does that mean?”

   “It means that I see you as strong, capable, and irreplaceable. You seem to forget that you’re the reason we’re all out here in the first place. If you hadn’t been with us, Blue never would have woken up. Considering that the Galra were making their way into our system when I went to Kerberos… they were getting too close. If you hadn’t been there to wake up Blue and to bring us all out here, if you hadn’t caught their attention and pulled it away from Earth like that, they probably would have taken Earth already.” Shiro’s heart ached to think that members of his team could feel so useless. Well, it was supposed to be Keith’s team now, but it wasn’t like he was doing a stand-up job of it. “Do you want a list of all the incredible things you’ve done since we met? I can and  _ will  _ provide that list.”

   Lance’s lips finally turned upwards into a small smile. “I don’t need a recap, thanks.”

   There was a silence. Shiro withdrew his hand, then decided that, if he could talk to anyone about this, it was Lance. “I know how it feels,” he said. “To feel useless.”

   “ _ Seriously _ ? You think that  _ you’re  _ useless?”

   “I haven’t served much of a purpose lately, have I? Planning missions is easy enough. Once you five head out on one of those missions, there’s nothing left for me to do but sit around and hope nobody gets hurt. I can’t go out to help you. I can’t do  _ anything  _ except make orders that aren’t mine to make. Keith is the leader now, not me. And if I can’t be out there to fight alongside everyone, if I can’t support all of you, then what am I still doing here? What I can do from the Castle isn’t nearly enough.”

   “That’s not true,” Lance said. “We’d be lost without your advice and orders during battle.”

   “But I should be  _ out there.  _ I should be fighting with you. It’s so  _ frustrating. _ ” He sighed, knowing that he could never get Lance to understand that the way he believed in Shiro was the same sort of way that Shiro believed in him. His voice softened. “I always try to hold myself together so that none of you waste any time or effort on worrying about me. It’s getting harder all the time. One of these days, the fact that I can’t be fighting alongside the team or someone getting hurt is going to break me. I don’t know what’ll happen after that.”

   “You have to stop being so stoic,” Lance replied. “It’s okay to not be strong all the time, you know. It’s not good for you to keep bottling everything up.”

   “I could say the same to you.”

   “I’m not  _ half _ as stoic as you are.”

   “Maybe not, but you are a bottler. I wouldn’t have found you here so late if you weren’t.”

   “I guess we’re both pretty fucked up, huh?”

   Shiro nodded. “I guess we are. Keith has been pretty fucked up, too.”

   Lance groaned. “ _ Ugh.  _ Can we, like,  _ not  _ talk about him?”

   Shiro chuckled. “You know, you guys are going to have to get on the same page eventually.”

   “Not gonna happen,” Lance said. “He’s…  _ sometimes _ my friend.  _ Sometimes.  _ But most of the time I just want to cut that shitty mullet right off of his head. Who the fuck still has a  _ mullet _ ? Except him, obviously.”

   “You really hate that mullet, don’t you?”

   “So much, dude.  _ So _ much.”

   Shiro chuckled again and Lance glanced over at him. His heart did a  _ thing  _ in his chest. Standing there, his face illuminated by distant starlight, he looked… ethereal. For a moment, Lance had trouble believing that the man next to him was actually real. Then Shiro looked over at him and smiled. 

   “I have an idea,” he said. 

   “What is it?” Lance asked. 

   “You want to get better at fighting, right?”

   “Obviously.”

   “And I need to feel  _ useful  _ again so I don’t have a fucking meltdown.”

   “Yeah, we definitely don’t want you to have a meltdown.”

   Shiro paused for a second, looking like he was struggling to find just the right words. He settled on something and continued, “Considering both of those matters, would you… would you like it if I helped you train now and then?”

   A light flickered to life in Lance’s eyes. Though Shiro could see it plain as day, Lance was blissfully unaware of the look in his face. Shiro wanted to train with him. Shiro wanted to help him get better and, in turn, Lance could help Shiro understand how important he still was to the team. He quickly nodded and said, “I’d really like that. Thank you.”

   “Just… don’t expect me to be very aggressive,” Shiro said. He lifted his hand, the metal hand, and stared at it. “I still have flashbacks and nightmares. I don’t want to hurt you if we’re sparring together.”

   “I trust you,” Lance said. He wasn’t really aware that he was doing it until he already had a hand on Shiro’s, feeling the cool metal against his skin. “I know you hate this thing,” he said, “but I don’t. It isn’t  _ Galra _ anymore. It’s  _ you.  _ Maybe that doesn’t help, but… this is your arm now, Shiro. It’s not  _ theirs.  _ You can trust yourself a bit more than you do.”

   There was an unusual feeling in Shiro’s chest as he stared at where Lance’s hand rested on his. There was no hesitation. No fear. Lance trusted Shiro to not crush his hand, such a delicate, fragile thing compared to the hard metal it rested on. So easily broken. It would be so easy for Shiro to grab that hand and render it permanently useless, and yet… Lance trusted him. 

   When the Galra performed the surgery, the metal had been welded to his flesh and the wires had been connected to his nerves. And now, here and now, he could—by some insane miracle of science or Galra magic; he wasn’t sure which—feel the warmth of Lance’s hand. This wasn’t the first time Lance had demonstrated his acceptance of the thing, either. He had heard about Lance’s attempt at rescuing him, had heard about how he walked right up and put Shiro’s Galra arm around his shoulders. He remembered Lance’s hesitation when he had offered that foreign, metal part of himself for a handshake; he remembered thinking that it was because his hand was fucking  _ metal _ , only to later find out that it was because Lance had been looking up to Shiro for a long time before that. 

   Lance wasn’t afraid of Shiro half as much as Shiro was afraid of himself. 

   The thought made him smile. “When do you want to start?” he asked. 

   “Whenever you’re ready,” Lance replied. “I mean, I obviously don’t have any plans to go grocery shopping or anything anytime soon, so.”

   “How about tomorrow, then? I want you to go to bed and get some rest before anything else.”

   Lance smiled and nodded in agreement. “Alright, alright. I still have to take a shower, though. Shower, then bed, then training tomorrow. That works for me.” 

   Shiro rolled his eyes, but the soft look in them said that he didn’t mean the gesture to be one of true irritation. “Go take your shower. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

   Lance was about to say  _ goodnight _ and leave when he realized that his hand was still on Shiro’s. In that moment, it felt like his heart skipped a beat; he hadn’t noticed that he was still touching him, not one bit. The metal had grown warmer at the contact with his skin, wearing away the coolness that proved that the touch was still ongoing. He had gotten so caught up that he stopped paying attention, stopped realizing that the human-like temperature wasn’t just his own hand, but rather Shiro’s reflecting the warmth. He pulled away, hoping there wasn’t any embarrassment on his face and that Shiro didn’t think it was awkward. 

   Before he could make any more of a fool of himself, Lance said a quick, “Goodnight, Shiro,” and walked away as quickly as he could without it somehow looking suspicious. 

   But Shiro wasn’t watching Lance as he left. His gaze returned to the metal hand. He brushed his human fingers over it, caught up in that it was so much warmer than usual. Warm because Lance had been touching it. Because Lance wasn’t afraid of it.

   He briefly wondered if there was anything about him that Lance _was_ afraid of, considering that he didn’t seem overly concerned about the two most dangerous parts of Shiro’s being. While he thought that it was a bit unnatural, the way Lance didn’t seem to be bothered by any of the fucked up parts of him, Shiro couldn’t help but feel… what was that feeling, exactly? Joy? Contentment? Relief, disbelief, happiness… 

   and then he realized what it was. 

   Lance made Shiro feel like every last part of him was normal. 

   Lance made him feel  _ human.  _

 

—

 

   “Thanks for helping me do the dishes lately,” Hunk said, resting a bowl upside down on a towel next to the sink. “I appreciate it, but, hey. Is everything okay? I know how much you  _ hate  _ accidentally touching wet food.”

   Lance shrugged as he scrubbed at a spot in the bowl he was working on. “I just want to be helpful. And, I know this might sound crazy, but it’s  _ actually  _ kind of relaxing. God knows I need that.”

   Hunk started on another bowl. “Why do you need something relaxing? I mean, other than the purple aliens who all want to kill us.”

   Lance laughed, rinsed the soap off the bowl, and set it with the others to dry before grabbing another. “I, uh, I have plans today that I’m kinda keyed up about.”

   Hunk raised an eyebrow and looked at Lance out of the corner of his eye. “Plans, huh?”

   Lance nodded. “Yep. Can you, uh, keep a secret for me?”

   “Dude, of  _ course _ I can keep a secret for you. What’s goin’ on?”

   “I mean, it’s not the end of the world if you tell someone, but, well, y’know.” There were no glaring spots on this bowl, nothing to focus his physical energy on while he spoke. “I talked with Shiro last night and we made plans to do some training stuff together today. And I wanted you to keep it a secret because you  _ know  _ Pidge is gonna start teasing me and Allura is gonna be all like, ‘ _ Oh, Lance, I’m so glad you’re putting in this effort _ ,’ and that’d be embarrassing and Coran might try to help and—”

   “Lance, buddy,” Hunk said, effectively stopping Lance’s nervous rant. “I get it. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

   Lance let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Hunk. I can always count on you.”

   “No problem. I think everyone’s got stuff to do today anyway, so you guys should be alright.” He grabbed the bowl from Lance’s hands. “Go. I’ll finish this up.”

   “You sure?”

   “Of course I’m sure. Go hang out with Shiro. And, uh, don’t die.”

   “Hunk, you’re stronger than him.”

   “Yeah, but the  _ arm _ .”

   “Oh my God.”

   “Seriously! That thing is  _ badass _ .”

   Lance rolled his eyes and started to leave. “Right. Yeah. Okay. I won’t die.”

   “Have fun.”

   “I’m gonna try.”

   And that was the truth, really. He was really going to try to have fun, but he couldn’t shake his nerves. It was one thing for him and Shiro to get paired up during a team training exercise or something, but this was entirely different. Shiro had  _ invited _ Lance to come train with him. Shiro wanted it to be just the two of them, all alone together in that room. And sure, it wasn’t exactly  _ private _ and any of their friends could show up at any time, but it still stirred up a lot of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, Lance was  _ thrilled _ . On the other, he knew that this was happening strictly for training, not necessarily for them to just… spend time together. It wasn’t like that. Since the night that he had first gone to Shiro’s room to find out what was bothering him, he and Shiro had been talking on a more personal level from time to time. There was only so much time for them to get to know each other and form a stronger friendship, of course, considering the whole  _ universal war _ thing, but Lance couldn’t help but get excited every single time he realized he’d get to talk to Shiro not as a lower-ranking soldier, but as a friend.

   He had already been friends with Shiro, sure, but that was sort of by extension. Everyone on the team was friends, but that didn’t mean they all had great relationships with each other. Until that talk… Shiro and Lance were friends because they were on the same side and happened to not hate each other’s guts. But now? Now it really felt  _ real _ . Like Lance didn’t have to doubt the sincerity of the word  _ friend _ when it came to the two of them.

   Lance sighed to himself. It wasn’t a big deal. So they had been friends before, enough so that they could open up to each other that night. That they were  _ better _ friends now didn’t have to be a big thing. It was totally chill. Still, his stomach twisted itself into knots as he walked through the halls, knowing that it was just going to be him and Shiro for a good long while. They’d be training together. Shiro would be teaching Lance how to fight.

   Shiro might even touch him.

_    Lord _ , he thought to himself,  _ give me strength. _

   Shiro was waiting for Lance on the training deck. He tried to convince his heart to not beat faster, at least not yet, but it didn’t listen. This was happening. Shiro, the Shiro that he had admired for  _ so damn long _ , was standing there waiting for Lance to show up to their training session. Maybe getting kidnapped by a large blue robot lion and thrown into a space war wasn’t all that bad. 

   Shiro smiled as Lance approached. “Hey. Did you sleep well last night?”

   No. He had been too nervous about  _ this  _ to get any quality sleep, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “Yeah,” he lied. “Staying up to fight the training bot wore me out. Slept like a baby.”

   “Glad to hear it,” Shiro said. “You need to get your sleep.”

   Lance shot him a look as they walked out into the middle of the training room. “Shut up,” he replied. “You don’t sleep, either.”

   “You know why that is.”

   “Because you hate sleep?”

   Shiro rolled his eyes. “Because I still have nightmares, Lance. Makes it hard to sleep.”

   “Well, did you, uh, sleep well last night?”

   “Better than usual,” he said, rolling his neck and then stretching his arms out above his head. “I guess I knew I’d need to be rested for this today.” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to stretch or not?”

   “Do I have to?”

   “You’ll hurt yourself if you don’t.”

   “I’ve never hurt myself because I haven’t stretched before exercise, Shiro.”

   “Not yet. You will. If you don’t take my advice, you’ll end up learning the hard way.”

   Lance sighed and half-heartedly started to stretch. “ _ Fiiine _ .”

   When Shiro was satisfied that they were both prepared, he nodded and said, “Alright, then. Let’s get started.”

 

—

 

   “Again,” Shiro ordered in that perfect, commanding tone of his. “You almost had it that time.”

   Lance groaned and managed to get his feet underneath him again, forcing himself to stand up. “ _ Shirooooo _ ,” he whined. “My ass hurts from falling so much. Do I not get to take a break for, like, five minutes?”

   Shiro crossed his arms over his chest. Lance’s heart almost stopped. That was  _ so _ unfair. Like, not to be crude or anything, but  _ damn _ . If someone was stupid enough to headbutt Shiro’s chest, they’d probably break their own damn skull. And if  _ that _ didn’t kill them, his arms were probably thicker than Lance’s thighs.  _ Damn _ .

   “Hey, are you listening to me?” Shiro asked, pulling Lance out of his thoughts.

   “Sorry,” he muttered, quickly looking down at the floor. “What was that?”

   Shiro sighed, though it didn’t sound  _ completely _ annoyed. “I’m trying to explain to you that we can’t afford to take breaks. You know damn well that the enemy won’t stand aside and let you rest just because your ass hurts from falling. I’m trying to help you learn how to power through that. Unless something breaks, we keep going until you know how to get through this.”

   Lance nodded. It made sense, of course. He just… really wanted to take a break. Seriously, if his tailbone survived this, it would be a fucking miracle. “Alright. I get it, I get it.”

   “Good. Now, like I said. Again.”

   Lance rolled his shoulders and looked at Shiro. His goal was, in theory, simple enough: All he had to do was get Shiro to the ground and neutralized. Of course, since this was a training session, he didn’t  _ actually _ have to knock Shiro out or anything. Lance just had to get Shiro in a position that he thought meant that Lance had taken control of the situation and was, simply put, winning. It was proving even more challenging than usual. Lance knew deep down that Shiro was making good on what he had said the previous night and not using all of his strength, and that just frustrated him even more. He couldn’t even take him down when he was hardly trying. He ignored the throbbing pain in his backside and assumed the attack position. This was hand-to-hand combat, no guns allowed.

   What a pain.

   Shiro began his advance. Lance tightened his fists. He could do this. He could do this. 

   When Shiro got close enough to throw a punch, Lance followed his instructions. He knew the rhythm of the motions by now. He just kept struggling to get Shiro off his feet. The guy was too damn  _ strong _ . It was Shiro’s left arm extending towards him, and just like he had been taught, he reached out with his right. His hand connected with Shiro’s forearm, he pushed it away from him, and tried to do something a little different from what Shiro had originally taught. Instead of following through the rest of the process like he was  _ supposed _ to, he used his right foot to catch Shiro’s calf to trip him as he moved. And, against the odds, it worked.

   But he forgot to let go of Shiro’s arm and he tumbled to the floor with him. He felt Shiro’s hand clamp down around his arm, and instead of Lance being able to push him away or escape, he felt himself being dragged around. He ended up with Shiro’s knee on his chest, Shiro’s free hand around his throat. 

   “I didn’t teach you that,” Shiro said, letting go of Lance and getting off of him. “Why’d you do it?”

   Lance sat up and shrugged. “I kept having trouble with the rest of the move. I couldn’t hit your shoulder with enough force, so I thought I’d have better luck if I caught you off guard and tripped you.” He scratched behind his ear. “I, uh, guess it didn’t work, though.”

   Shiro actually chuckled, earning a curious look from Lance. “You got me,” he said. “You really did surprise me. I thought you’d keep repeating the steps I taught you until you got it right,  but… If you’d let go, I might not have been able to take you down with me.”

   “Wasn’t it kind of… unfair, though?”

   “Your enemies won’t play fair, Lance. Neither should you. You do whatever it takes to get the upper hand, you hear me? This isn’t like a card game where all you lose is a couple dollars if someone cheats and you’re unprepared. This is war. War isn’t fair. You have to expect them to cheat and you have to be ready to do the same damn thing.”

   Lance nodded. Shiro was right, their enemies  _ didn’t _ play fair. They were dirty. They did anything they needed to do in order to win. And in order to beat them, Lance had to be willing to do the same thing. There are no rules on the battlefield. 

   So while Shiro’s guard was down, he lunged. It was an awkward movement, leaping forward from a sitting position, but he finally,  _ finally _ knocked Shiro to the ground. An intense light flickered in Shiro’s eyes. Lance tried to pin his arms, but he was too slow. Shiro, it seemed, was always prepared. He didn’t hesitate for even a second, immediately grabbing Lance by the shoulders and pushing him off and to the side. Lance’s back hit the floor hard enough to hurt a bit, hard enough for him to cough, but not enough to cause any serious damage. Shiro rolled over towards Lance, grabbed both of his wrists even as he tried to sit up, and pinned him once again.

   “Really, Lance?” Shiro asked, his tone humored but not mocking. 

   “Worth a shot,” Lance said with a groan. He was distinctly aware of the current situation; this was different from the other times Shiro had gained control. He was… closer. Bent over further, his face nearer to Lance’s than it had ever been before. The logical part of Lance’s brain told him that it was a tactic to keep him in place, considering the unusual way they had ended up like this, but the  _ I-have-a-fucking-massive-crush-on-Shiro _ part of him was really, really trying to convince the logical part that this was something more than a fighting position.

   The light in Shiro’s eyes dimmed, replaced by something else. Something that Lance didn’t recognize. His heart pounded in his chest from both exhaustion and the thrill of all of this. He could feel the steady beat in his fingertips, hear it as the sound made its way to his ears. Sweat ran down his neck; he’d have to take one hell of a shower when this was all over. He was sweaty  _ all over _ . The back of his throat begged for a drink of water and his lungs begged for a few minutes of inactivity so they could catch up. And still Shiro stared down at him, not moving, not speaking.

   Then his upper lip curled and an inhuman snarl worked its way out.

   And suddenly Lance knew what that new look in his eyes was.

   It wasn’t pride or excitement or competitiveness.

   It was bloodlust.

   It all clicked into place. Shiro had promised not to use his full strength and he had followed through, but Lance still wasn’t overly physically strong. He still struggled. His heart still raced and sweat still ran down his skin and his breathing was still erratic and… and his blood raced through his veins at a much faster, much more interesting rate than usual.

   Right then and there, Shiro was looking at Lance like he was a meal. He supposed he should have been scared, but all he could think was,  _ Finally. _ He finally had his chance. So he tilted his head back and looked a little to the side, giving him the best possible access to his throat. He closed his eyes, letting himself feel Shiro’s descent towards the skin. He could feel Shiro’s breath on his neck, hot and dry and needy in an animalistic way. He braced himself. What would it feel like? How much would it hurt? Hopefully he wouldn’t get sick or anything. That’d be awful.

   The bite didn’t come. He reopened his eyes as Shiro suddenly pulled away, releasing Lance’s wrists and covering his mouth with one hand as he retreated, not that it was much of a retreat; he was mostly… scooting. Scooting away. Lance sat up to see that there was a new look in his eyes again. It was a mix of all sorts of things, things that Lance didn’t want Shiro to ever feel. It was fear and panic and repulsion and self-loathing and  _ so much worry. _

   Lance didn’t know what to say.

   “I—I’m sorry,” Shiro choked out. “I’m so sorry.” He rose to his feet, still holding that hand over his mouth. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”

   Without another word, Shiro quickly turned and left the training deck, leaving Lance sitting on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	3. Couldn't Keep Weighing Him Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone makes mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Not gonna lie, this chapter isn't *totally* canon-compliant. I totally made some shit up for this one. Pls bear with me here guys I gotta do what I gotta do to make this fic a thing;;;

   Lance stumbled out of Red, holding his left hand to his right arm. He was vaguely aware of the others running over and freaking out around him, someone saying something about the blood. So much blood.

   His hearing was all off. It sounded like everyone was far away, trying to call out to him, but he could barely hear the words. The back of his neck felt cold as if all of the blood had rushed out of the area and refused to return. His stomach turned. Lance took his hand away from the wound for just a moment. His hand was covered in his own blood and, for a second, he thought he might be sick. “D-Don’t put me in a pod,” he said, returning pressure to the deep gash. He had been careless. Again. “It’s just—just a cut. I—I’m fine.”

   “Lance, you are  _ not _ fine,” Allura said. “You’re going in a pod as soon as we get you there.”

   If he could have done it, he would have dismissively waved a hand. “Arm’s still on,” he muttered, shrugging off any touches from the others. He had gotten himself into this mess. He could get himself to the medbay, too. Blood seeped out around his fingers, breaking down his willpower. He had never felt like this before. What was happening to him? “Whatever. Do whatever you want.” A chill ran down his spine as he remembered the feeling of the blade slicing through his flesh and hitting bone. 

   A figure came running up to them, frantically saying something about something. It was all nonsense. Even as Lance’s eyes grew unfocused, he could tell it was Coran. His head hurt. His stomach didn’t feel right. He cast his weary eyes to the ground, his ears barely registering the approach of another set of footsteps. More blood welled up and slid down his arm, leaving a trail of droplets on the floor behind him. 

_    Drip.  _

   “Lance! Seriously, let someone carry you!”

_    Drip.  _

   “He’s not paying attention! What do we do?”

_    Drip.  _

   “Fuck this. Sorry, buddy, but I’m gonna pick you up, alright? We’re gonna get you fixed up.”

_    Drip.  _

   He felt the physical presence of someone next to him. Hunk, he thought through the haze. Of course. He didn’t think he could shrug off the help again. He was about to break down and let himself get carried to the medbay when the floor seemed to tilt underneath him.

   He stumbled forward, tripping over his own feet. Someone gasped, someone called his name. It was all such a mess. On the way down, he wondered what was real. Was this happening? Had he seriously been reduced to such a pathetic state because he’d caught a sword to the arm? His grip on the wound failed and he knew the result was probably ugly and messy, but it didn’t matter. Maybe he’d knock himself out when he hit the ground. Maybe… 

   He hit something. Not the floor, he realized; he was still sort-of standing, though the thing he had tripped into was holding up most of his weight. He looked up. It was… a person. Someone he thought should be familiar. His eyes couldn’t focus; all he really saw was a mess of color. Black. White. 

   It all faded. 

   Nothing. 

 

—

 

   When he opened his eyes, he was laying down. There was a dull ache deep within his arm in spite of the fact that it felt like all of the muscle and skin had stitched itself back together. What happened? He remembered getting hit by that sword. He remembered the team rushing to finish what they were doing so they could get him back in the Castle. He had walked out of Red by himself, then… 

   He reached over to feel the area. It was whole. There were no stitches, no raises or indents compared to the rest of his skin. Everything was fine. So they had put him in a pod. Then what? He finished cooking and they took him out to rest? Probably. The last time he landed himself in a pod, he had practically fallen into their little clock party. Maybe they didn’t want a repeat of that. 

   He looked around the room. He’d never been here before. There wasn’t much to see; it looked like most of the rest of the Castle, but with a special monitor above the bed. Next to the bed was a chair. 

   Empty. 

   Of course. 

   He sighed. Nobody was there waiting for him to wake up. Again. Hunk had told him that, that first time, they’d all been gathered around his pod until they got to talking about the difference between a  _ second _ and a  _ tick.  _ He had thought that it was suspicious, but he had believed him. And now? Now he wasn’t so sure. He was all alone again, left to wake up by himself and wonder what everyone was doing without him. They were probably doing just fine. If they really needed him… someone would be sitting in that chair. Someone would be waiting for him to open his eyes again. To tell him that he had done well until he was wounded, because, fuck, he had been doing well. His training with Shiro was paying off, right up until the moment he got teamed up on by, like, three guys.

   An uncomfortable heat prickled at his eyes. He… he had been doing well, hadn’t he? He had taken out a few enemies, hadn’t he? He had been useful until he physically couldn’t lift his arm anymore, right?

   There was no one there to tell him that he had done his best. 

   The tears spilled over, trailing down the sides of his face. He had tried so hard, he always did, but it always ended up like this. The monitor above the bed made a noise he didn’t know the meaning of, not that it mattered. Even if the monitor connected to some other part of the medbay, who was going to pay attention to it? He wasn’t useful anymore. He could lift his arm again, but the damage was done. This was the last straw, wasn’t it? The last time. They’d find a replacement and send him home now that they knew once and for all that he couldn’t be of more help to the team and—

   Why couldn’t that sword have just killed him? It would have been less painful than this. A part of him supposed that it was fucked up for him to be thinking something like that, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. There was a sick feeling in his gut, a feeling like he really was about to be abandoned by all of his friends because he had ruined their mission and they had been forced to retreat.

   He should have stayed home. If he had just stayed home, he’d be living a normal life and not waking up alone after almost losing an arm in a fight. He should never have joined the Garrison. If he had just followed his family’s advice, if he had just finished regular high school instead of transferring, if he had just gotten a job working a cash register or stocking groceries… if… 

   if he had never found that interview. 

   It was probably still next to his bed back home. He had left it there when he shipped out, something for him to see if he ever came back home thinking that he couldn’t get through the Garrison and then go out into space. 

   He remembered waking up in the mornings, rolling over, and reading a question or two before he got out of bed. One made its way to the surface of his memory. 

_    Q: Have you ever thought that you made a mistake by taking on so much work? _

_    A: All the time. That’s not to say that I’m unhappy, though. I’m sure a lot of people regret starting things because they ended up failing, but for me, I’d rather do as much as I can and fall short than have to live with knowing that I didn’t give it all I’ve got. The regret of knowing that I didn’t do my absolute best is worse than the regret of failure or mistakes.  _

   Lance let out a shaky sigh. He had been doing his absolute best from the start, so why did he still have so much regret?  _ Why _ couldn’t he just be more like Shiro? After all this time, he was still so far behind him that it’d be laughable if it wasn’t so pathetic. 

   He was choking on a sob about the time the door opened. He jumped in surprise, expecting it to maybe be Coran coming to check on him after getting a weird message from the monitor. But it wasn’t Coran. It wasn’t even Hunk. 

   It was Shiro. 

   Lance swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from sobbing again. He had already cried in front of Shiro too many times. He couldn’t keep weighing him down with his own emotional bullshit. “Hey,” he managed to say. 

   Shiro smiled softly, closing the door behind him as he walked over to the chair next to Lance’s bed. “Hey,” he said. “How do you feel?”

   Lance shook his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak any louder than a whisper. “Not good.” He needed to get Shiro to talk. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t speak and hold back the storm at the same time. “What, uh, what happened, exactly? After I… got out of Red, I guess.”

   It worked. Shiro sighed, the sound coming out as something like worry or concern. “You were really out of it, Lance. When I got there, Hunk was about to pick you up. You were trying to make it to the medbay on your own, I think. And… there was so much blood, a whole trail leading away from Red. I’m impressed that you stayed conscious as long as you did.”

_    Fuck.  _ Why couldn’t Shiro just tell the full story without making Lance have to ask more questions? “Sorry to cause trouble.” He sniffled. “Who… who caught me when I fell?”

   Shiro paused. “You remember that?”

   “A bit.”

   “It was me,” he said after a long moment spent trying to choose his words. “I got to you guys about the time you tripped. I caught you. You passed out after that and since you were already in my arms, I carried you to the medbay. We got you in a pod. You were in there for a couple of days. You were still unconscious when we took you out, though, so Allura opened up this little recovery room for you. You’ve been in here since then.”

   In his moment of surprise, his fear of speaking faded long enough for him to ask, “You… you carried me? Even though I was bleeding?”

   Shiro smiled softly. “Yeah. Don’t act like it’s something special, though. I wasn’t really thinking about it. After I picked you up, I’m not sure it even fully registered that you were bleeding. I was just worried about getting you to a pod, that’s all.”

   “That  _ is _ special,” Lance replied. He tried to look reassuring, but God knew how he actually looked; he was trying to keep himself from fucking losing it, after all. “I don’t think just any old vampire could manage that. I told you that you can trust yourself more.”

   Then Shiro’s smile faded. “After you were safe… I didn’t wash the blood off, Lance. Don’t tell me that I did something special by being able to tune out the shit that was happening right then, alright? Don’t even think about it. I’m not the great person you seem to think I am. I didn’t wash your blood off my skin.”

   “Then… what did you do? I don’t understand.”

   Shiro’s face contorted in pain. Lance reached out towards him, trying to give him some type of comfort, but Shiro wouldn’t take his hand. He took a deep breath and said, “They sent me to go get washed up after you were in the pod. I was going to, I really was, but as soon as I knew you’d be okay and I was alone… I can’t help but hate myself,” Shiro admitted so quietly it was almost like he was talking to himself. He refused to look at Lance for fear that there would be disgust in his eyes; even though Lance had been saying that he wanted Shiro to take blood from him, he knew that it was never supposed to be like this. “All I could think was that it would be a waste to just wash it all away. It was an experiment at first. I just tasted a little bit off one of my fingers and then… I couldn’t help it.” The monitor above Lance’s bed made another noise. “I know this isn’t how you wanted it to happen. I can't comprehend  _ why  _ you hoped that we could make some big thing out of it, but I know you did. Maybe it was like me biting you and having your blood for the first time would be an important milestone in our relationship, and I took all of that away. I never meant to do it, not really. I told you that I can’t hurt the people I care about, even though you’ve been trying so hard to convince me that it’s okay and that it’s something you really want to do for me.” His shoulders started to shake. It was happening, he thought. It was finally happening. One of his team members got hurt and he couldn’t deal with it and he was finally going to have that meltdown he’d been dreading for so long. “You were wounded. You weren’t bleeding because I’m a vampire and I finally decided to take you up on your offer. You were bleeding because you got hurt in a battle and I  _ used you.  _ I’m so sorry, Lance. I’m so—I’m so fucking sorry.” He finally,  _ finally  _ looked back up to Lance. “Please let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything you want.”

   “Shiro,” Lance said with a sigh that sounded almost… dreamy? Shiro would have slapped himself if he had been alone. There was no way it was anything like that. Lance stretched his arm out a little further, his fingers finally brushing against Shiro’s skin. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. If anyone needs to apologize, it’s me. I freaked everyone out, not you. And I don’t care how it happened, alright? I’m just… I’m glad that you finally got some real blood in you.”

   “Lance…”

   “Did it help? I know about the throat thing.”

   Shiro sighed. He didn’t want to continue down this path, not one bit, but he knew Lance wasn’t going to let him bail. “Yes,” he admitted. “It helped.”

   “Then there’s nothing wrong. Shiro, I  _ wanted _ that. Y-You’re right that I wanted it to be different.” His face grew hot; he wondered his bad his blush was. “I had kind of hoped you’d bite me and we’d have some sort of  _ bond _ or something stupid like that, but… it doesn’t matter how it happened. Doesn’t matter that the blood came from a wound. I guess I’m a bit disappointed that it wasn’t different, but I’m really happy to hear that something good came out of me getting hurt.”

   Shiro shook his head as he said, “I don’t understand you. What’s your thought process like? Why do you seem to think that me  _ biting _ you would be anything other than terrible?” He couldn't stop himself from trembling. “Why aren’t you mad at me? I’m a fucking monster, Lance. I’ve killed people because I’ve had  _ cravings.  _ I… a child. There was a child when the Galra had me held captive. He started bleeding and I  _ killed him.  _ I’m not some noble being who only takes the absolute minimum that he needs. I’m not even human enough to keep from licking your blood off my skin like a starving man cramming as much into his mouth as he can.” When was the last time he cried? He wasn’t sure. It couldn’t have been that long ago, not considering, well,  _ everything.  _ But he didn’t know. There was  _ so much  _ that he didn’t know,  _ so much _ wrong with him. So, why? Why did Lance look up to him? Why did Lance value him so highly? Why?

   He cradled his head in his hands. “You… I don’t deserve it, Lance,” Shiro said, his voice trembling as much as his fingers. “I don’t deserve your admiration. I’m not a hero, I’m not  _ anything  _ besides a fucking  _ mess _ and you always act like… like I’m this  _ incredible  _ person and I’m  _ not _ ! I’m not, Lance.” He looked up, a wildness his eyes. “You’re ready to give me everything and I don’t deserve any of it. Why don’t you understand that?”

   Lance forced himself to sit up. He ached from being in the pod for two days, ached from not using his muscles, but he ignored it and leaned forward towards Shiro. “You really don’t get it?” he asked. Shiro shuddered at the look in his eyes; Lance rarely looked so intense. He was an emotional person, he was vulnerable and sweet, the kind of person who would rather sit alone and be miserable than feel like his feelings were a burden to someone else. “You have no fucking idea why I still admire you?”

   Shiro shook his head.

   Lance almost laughed. “Holy shit, dude. You… you  _ really _ don’t get it? Like, you don’t even have any ideas? Nothing?” Shiro shook his head again. For a moment, Lance considered making something up. He considered lying. He considered saying that it was because the admiration he had carried all those years was just too stubborn to let go, that it was because he had admired him  _ so much _ back then that no amount of fuckups could make him feel anything else towards Shiro. It would be so much easier to lie. It would be so much easier to say that Shiro was one of his best friends and he couldn’t help it. 

   But he couldn’t lie to Shiro. Not anymore. He swallowed hard and looked away; he had never done anything like this before. He didn’t have the mental strength to look Shiro in the eye as he said it. “I’m genuinely  _ shocked _ that you didn’t figure it out, I really am. I thought… I thought maybe you knew already and just didn’t say anything because you didn’t want me to freak out.” He took a long, deep breath. “It’s because I…”

   “Because you _what_? Help me understand.”

   “It’s because I like you, Shiro.”

   “Yeah, I got that. We’re friends.”

   “Holy  _ fuck _ .” Lance looked back up in disbelief. “You aren’t just my  _ friend _ . I’m in love with you, you dumbass.”

   There was a long pause.

   Then Shiro said, “What?”

   Lance groaned and flopped back down onto the bed, rolling over to face the wall. He really,  _ really _ didn’t want Shiro to see his face right then. “You were just my hero back when we first met. Then you just… God, I dunno. You made me happy. Whenever you’d tell me that I did well or something like that, I’d be twice as happy as when anyone else said it. You’d brush against me in the hallway and I’d feel like my chest was going to fucking  _ explode _ and I didn’t know  _ why _ until Hunk started telling me about how much he likes Shay. I hadn’t ever thought that I might have a—a  _ crush _ on you. It didn’t feel like when I had a crush on some girl from school. It wasn’t like anything, actually, and I didn’t realize that it  _ was _ anything until Hunk told me about how Shay made him feel.” Was his voice as shaky as his hands? Probably. He couldn’t tell. It wasn’t like he was paying much attention to what he was saying; he was only trying to get all of it out before he lost courage. 

   “I realized that I had a crush on you that was so fucking  _ huge _ that it was totally new to me. It was fucking terrifying.” He grabbed a fistful of the sheets, trying to keep himself from losing it. “I… I’m in love with you. That’s why. That’s why I want to give you everything I can. Because I love you.”

   “You… love me?”

   “Yes.”

   “Fuck, seriously? I—I had no idea.”

   “I noticed.”

   “Hey. Look at me.”

   Lance sighed. As the monitor made another noise, he rolled over to face Shiro. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Shiro laid a hand on his face, a soft, almost adoring expression on his face. “I really don’t deserve that,” he said. “You deserve better. Someone who isn’t… well, me. I’m a fucking wreck.”

   “You say that like  _ I’m _ not a wreck.”

   “Maybe you are,” Shiro admitted. “Maybe you’re a wreck, but you aren’t  _ half  _ as bad as I am. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care if you’re a mess, okay? If… if you want to give me a chance for whatever weird ass reason, it would be an honor.”

   Lance’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “So, you’re not going to reject me?”

   Shiro scoffed. “Are you kidding? When I’m with you, I can forget that I’m a modern version of Frankenstein’s monster.”

   “Frankenstein’s monster? That’s what you think of yourself?”

   “Oh, come on. I have a human exterior and a vampire interior. And, I don’t know if you noticed this or not, but one of my arms isn’t the one I was born with.”

   “You aren’t a monster.”

   “You’re so sweet. God, I adore you.”

   “You mean that?”

   “I’ve told you a thousand times how much I value you, Lance. Remember? I’ve meant everything I’ve ever said to you.”

   “So…”

   “If you really mean it, that you’re in love with me, then let me stay by your side.”

   For the first time in what felt like forever, Lance didn’t totally hate his own tears as they came. “That’s all I want. For us to be together, I mean.”

   Shiro leaned over and pressed a kiss to Lance’s forehead. “I still won’t bite you, though.”

_    Ugh.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suuuuuuuck at writing confession scenes LMAO but here we are anyway ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. I'd Like That, Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance keeps worrying about Shiro.  
> Shiro decides to take Lance somewhere nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asdfkjhdskjs it's been a little while since the last update gomen;; but I wrote it and that's what matters

   Shiro sighed heavily as he climbed into bed. It had finally happened. When the team needed him most, Keith was nowhere to be found. No amount of apologies could make up for it; even the Black Lion must have realized it, because when Keith didn’t show and Shiro was ready to step back on up and take the initiative, she responded. She chose him once again. He was the black paladin again, for better or for worse.

   And Keith?

   He left.

   Shiro would _never_ say that he was glad that Keith was gone. He was reckless and occasionally unbearable, sure, but he was also loyal to a fault. The fault, in this case, being his loyalty to the Blade of Marmora. Shiro was happy for him, really. It must have been indescribably difficult for him to wrap his head around the fact that, while he and everyone around him thought that he was just a normal human boy, he was actually part Galra. He had adjusted to the knowledge and was trying to embrace his heritage by working with the _good_ Galra, the ones who _didn’t_ want to take over the entire universe at any cost. He was learning new things, meeting new people, and doing things that none of them would have ever thought possible.

   But Keith’s distraction had become everyone’s distraction. While he went with the Blade, while he did petty jobs like outposts and small-scale raids, the paladins of Voltron were struggling to keep going without the fifth and final part of their group. When Keith walked in late, when he saw everyone standing there and glaring at him, when he saw Shiro in the black paladin’s armor again—he must have realized that nobody was going to put up with it anymore. His divided loyalty was dividing the team and hurting their cause. So he made the decision to leave Voltron, to leave the responsibilities of the black paladin with Shiro again. It was a relief. Sitting in the Black Lion, being a pilot and a leader again, gave him a satisfaction he’d never admit to out loud.

   He supposed he should be ashamed of himself for thinking like that. Keith had been his friend for a long time and seeing him leave the team because he felt like he didn’t belong anymore was a terrible feeling, but deep down, he knew it was for the best. It really was. If Keith wasn’t around, nobody would have to worry about if he’d be there or not when they needed him most. With Shiro back in the leader’s seat, they wouldn’t have to worry anymore. He’d always be there. Keith had his own personal reasons and motivations that Shiro knew damn well he’d never be able to put into words. He had a whole new part of himself to explore and being a member of Voltron didn’t necessarily allow for that type of freedom. Shiro didn’t have that problem. All of his energy could be focused on the team.

   Well, _most_ of his energy. The gentle _swish_ of his door opening and closing reminded him of his other main concern. His bed was tiny, but that didn’t stop Lance from crawling in there next to him. Shiro couldn’t help but chuckle as he tried to get cozy. “You alright?” he asked as Lance fought the lack of space and the blankets.

   “This sucks,” he said with a groan. Instead of continuing his attempt to get comfortable in bed, he flopped over on top of Shiro. “I dunno if your bed is too small or if you’re too big.”

   “Probably both.”

   “Probably.”

   Shiro reached up to run his fingers through Lance’s hair. This had become a nightly occurrence recently; after he had been released from bed rest in the recovery room, he had tried hard to not be clingy or annoying. Shiro wasn’t having any of that. He had scooped Lance up in his arms and carried him to bed that night and held him in his arms, telling him that he could _never_ annoy Shiro by wanting to be close to him. And now, every single night, they managed to wedge themselves into the same bed regardless of how uncomfortable or awkward of a position they ended up in.

   “Hey,” Lance said softly, his head pressed against Shiro’s chest. “Are you okay?”

   “Why wouldn’t I be?”

   “It’s just, you know. Keith ditched us and you’ve been super busy trying to readjust to being a paladin. You haven’t really had any time for yourself to do… well, vampire stuff. I’m worried about your health.”

   “You’re always going to be worried about my health, aren’t you?”

   “Of course I am. I love you.”

   Shiro was pretty glad that he had turned off the light before he got in bed. Lance seemed to love the way it felt to say _I love you_ —an absolutely _precious_ thing that Shiro _adored_ —but it was still a bit jarring to hear it said so bluntly; Shiro, embarrassingly enough, had never done particularly well with receiving affection. He couldn’t be held responsible for the stupid looks on his face whenever Lance said that sort of thing, but Lance still teased him a little.

   His entire life was pretty surreal at this point. He had never imagined that it would end up like this. He had never been interested in relationships before he went to Kerberos, and after he escaped from the Galra, there hadn’t really been any free time to think about it. And if there was free time for it, well, he had kind of assumed that it just wasn’t in the cards for him anymore. He was still missing huge chunks of his memory, and only God knew what happened in those times he couldn’t remember. What had they done to him? Had they ruined him? He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to really _trust_ anyone again, not the way he used to. It wasn’t even that he had been betrayed and that was why he had trust issues, no, he just… did. He guessed that being locked up and used for sport would do that to a guy.

   He pulled Lance a little closer. “You’re precious,” he said.

   “You’re stubborn.” Lance sat up a little to give Shiro a little kiss. “You’re a huge, stubborn dumbass and even if I love you, I can’t stand you sometimes.” He kissed him again. “Why won’t you just let me worry about you, huh? We… we’re dating, right? I know you worry about me, so now you have to let me worry about you.”

   Shiro rolled his eyes and pulled Lance into another kiss. This one wasn’t soft or quick, but intense and long-lived. Lance gasped to catch his breath when Shiro let him go. “Never gonna happen,” he said, not sounding even the tiniest bit breathless. Like he could go on kissing Lance forever. “Not gonna let you waste your energy worrying about me.”

   Lance groaned and laid back down. The steady beating of Shiro’s heart relaxed him in a way nothing else could. “I don’t think you have a say in the matter,” he said. “I’m always going to worry about you, Shiro. It’s not something I can just _not_ do.”

   Shiro fell silent. There was no winning this one. He held Lance close, continuing to stroke his hair. “Go to sleep,” he said. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow. You need your rest.”

   For once, Lance did as he was told.

 

—

 

   “I have an idea,” Lance said as he sat down next to Shiro. Hunk and Pidge were off messing with something in the hangar, he thought, and Allura and Coran were busy with some strategy or whatever. He hadn’t really been listening while everyone related their plans for the day at breakfast; as long as they didn’t have to go running off to a battle, everything would be fine. He rested his head on Shiro’s shoulder. “Why don’t we just collect blood for you whenever one of us dumbasses gets hurt? Homemade blood packs don’t sound so bad, do they?”

   “I won’t let you waste time collecting blood when you should be trying to get the bleeding to stop, Lance.” He barely managed to keep himself from sighing. Lance was just trying to help and he knew it, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. He knew that Lance wanted the best for him, no matter the personal cost, and that was killing him; for as many times as he could forget his vampiric nature when he was with Lance, he was distinctly reminded of his differences the moment Lance suggested a new solution to the blood problem. Shiro always did his best to convince Lance that he was doing just fine, that his occasional stops at a planet to do some animal hunting were enough, but after that mini-breakdown he had had in Lance’s recovery room, Lance doubled his efforts to get Shiro to give in. The worst part was that it was working. Shiro had admitted to being less than perfect, to not being that person who only took what he needed, to being that person who wanted more than he already had access to. He was selfish and Lance knew it now.

   It should have stopped Lance from loving him, he thought. But it didn’t. Maybe that was the worst part—no matter how disgusting, no matter how much of a low-life Shiro was, Lance still loved him. Lance still wanted to give him everything he had to offer. It had been a little while since that fateful day, and despite their whispers of _maybe we should take it slow_ and _take your time_ , they had already done more together than Shiro probably would have allowed back on Earth. He suspected that it was because he, on some level, knew that each day could be the last. They didn’t have the luxury of knowing that _tomorrow_ was promised the way it was back home. He had never really been that interested in relationships, no, but he had always had this personal rule of taking things slow. He didn’t want himself or any of his potential partners to rush into something that they’d regret later on, after all. He had broken his own rule for Lance.

   It made him wonder what other personal restrictions Lance would encourage him to break.

   He was ashamed of himself. Every day, with every offer Lance made, he grew closer to breaking and just _biting_ him the way he wanted him to. Lance had always had a certain appeal; the silly, flirty parts of him that seemed to annoy the others had always been rather endearing to Shiro, not that he had ever been able to admit it. As the oldest on the team—other than the Alteans, of course—he had always been destined to take on that mature, leaderly role that required him to shut down shenanigans before they went too far. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t wanted to let things play out once or twice, just to see how everyone would react to each other, but he couldn’t risk it. If an argument broke out because he had let Lance finish that flirty line or because he hadn’t stopped Lance and Keith from bickering or if he didn’t step in to keep the team from descending into madness because of something stupid… the list of things he had to keep in their proper place went on and on and _on_.

   He didn’t get to play favorites, either. He and Lance may have become a _thing_ , but that didn’t mean that Shiro could go easy on him. Even if it upset Lance that Shiro was still so quick to put him back in his place, it had to be done. And it wasn’t like Lance stayed mad at him for very long, even when he had a good reason to be angry for a long time; Shiro wasn’t sure if it was because that was just how Lance was or if it was because Lance didn’t want to put their relationship in jeopardy by staying mad at him, but at the end of every single day, regardless of if Shiro had yelled at him or not, he came wandering into Shiro’s room and crawled into bed with him. They’d kiss and Shiro would tell him that he hadn’t done anything wrong, not really, but he was just stepping too far out of line at the time. Lance would say that it was alright, that he knew he wasn’t always as serious as he should be. And that was that.

   Lance took a quick look around the room to make sure they were alone before he slid onto Shiro’s lap, wrapping his arms loosely around his shoulders and sighing gently. “So, what? You really want me to give up trying to get you to take blood from me?”

   Despite himself, Shiro’s hands moved to Lance’s hips. “I’ve been trying to get you to stop since the day you started.”

   “And look how well that worked out for you,” Lance teased, leaning in and kissing Shiro’s nose. “I’m still doing it.”

   “What do I have to do to get you to stop?”

   “Bite me.”

   Shiro leaned in and nipped at Lance’s neck, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough for it to really count as a bite. “There,” he said, sounding all smug and self-satisfied. “How’s that?”

   “Hm,” Lance mused. “Kinky, but not what I meant.”

   Shiro rolled his eyes. “Kinky, huh? I didn’t know you were into that kinda thing.”

   “You haven’t asked,” Lance said with a shrug. “You’d know about all kinds of things I’m into if you’d ask.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on Shiro’s shoulder. “Seriously, though. I won’t stop bugging you until you just… I wish you’d stop being afraid of yourself.”

   And Shiro meant it when he said, “I’d like that, too.”

 

—

 

   Lance groaned as Shiro’s canines broke the skin, burying deep into the flesh of his shoulder for a brief moment. It felt… he wasn’t sure. The teeth slid back out of the holes they had made before Shiro’s mouth latched onto the area and he started to lap at the blood that spilled from the wounds.

 _Finally._ He tangled his fingers in Shiro’s hair. It was about damn time.

   And then a large, echoing _crash_ sounded from somewhere else within the Castle and Lance jerked awake. He sighed heavily. It was a dream. He reached up and touched the junction of his neck and his shoulder; the skin was completely smooth and unhurt. Shiro sat at his desk with his back to Lance, looking intensely at something on his tablet. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Lance’s sigh.

   “Good morning,” he said. “Did you sleep crooked?”

   Lance shook his head, taking his hand away from his shoulder. “Nah. It’s nothing.” He yawned. “The fuck’s goin’ on out there?”

   “No idea,” Shiro replied. He looked back to his tablet. “Probably Pidge messing with something again. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

   “I’m good. I was havin’ a weird dream, anyway.”

   “What kind of dream?”

   Lance paused. He couldn’t just _say_ that he had been dreaming about Shiro finally biting him and sucking his blood. If he did, Shiro would probably start acting all miserable _again_ about his being a vampire and needing blood and Lance wanting to offer that blood to him and—

   “The usual weird shit,” he decided to say instead. “Like, goblins and abandoned cities.”

   “Goblins?”

   “I did say it was a weird dream, didn’t I?”

   Shiro chuckled. “You did. Listen, though. Unless some emergency pops up, we’ve all got the day off. I was thinking we could do something together.”

   Lance crawled out of bed and crossed the room, resting his hands on Shiro’s shoulders and his chin on the top of Shiro’s head. “Like a date?”

   “Not _like_ a date. It _is_ a date.”

 _Oh._ They’d been a thing for a little while now, but they’d never actually been on a real date. They’d never been on a pseudo-date either, actually. There was never the time or the opportunity, considering their occupations as Voltron paladins. Lance had been fine with it, though; as long as he got to sleep next to Shiro at night, he had all he needed. Fancy dinner dates or whatever weren’t even on his mind. But when faced with the chance to go on a date with Shiro… there was no way he was going to say _no._

   He was unaware of the huge smile on his face as he said, “That sounds great. I’d love to. I’m assuming you have something in mind?”

   Shiro nodded slightly, enough to get his point across but not enough to disrupt Lance’s position. He pulled up an image on his tablet. “I did some research on the planets in this system and found this place. It’s on one of their moons. I thought you might like it.”

   Lance looked at the tablet. There was a picture showing a large glass wall, on the other side of which was a body of water—or whatever passed for _water_ there—where alien fish swam. He gasped a little. “You found an aquarium?”

   Shiro scrolled down on the page. The words were all in a foreign language, but a quick tap of a _translate page_ button changed the text to Altean. Neither of them read Altean, though, so the next thing Shiro had to tap was the _read aloud_ button so the Castle translators could pick up the words and change them into ones the boys knew. The aquarium wasn’t _just_ a building they could visit. It occupied the entire moon, a place with an even higher water-to-land ratio than Earth. The moon’s planet had decided to install pathways and food shops and hotels and a _lot_ of glass, creating the ultimate outdoor aquarium. The fish were unbothered by civilization; the most contact they had with people was through the glass. The ecosystems continued on their own as the fish were free to hunt each other, breed, and live in their own natural ways without any interference. Maybe it would have been better described as a type of nature preserve, Lance thought, but the exact term didn’t matter. What did matter was that he was _thrilled._

   Not only was Shiro— _the_ Shiro! The one he’d been pining after for, like, _forever_ !—about to take him out on a _date_ , they were going to an aquarium-slash-nature preserve with water _everywhere_ , with little touch pools and fountains and mist machines, and all sorts of neat alien fish and—he forced himself to take a deep breath. It was okay to be excited, but the last thing he needed was to get so pumped up that he totally lost his shit. Instead of continuing down that path, he gave Shiro one of those awkward hugs from behind and thanked him.

   Of course, Shiro insisted that Lance didn’t need to thank him for anything. They were technically dating, so they should go on dates. God, he was _so_ indescribably excited.

   Shiro chuckled. “You go get something to eat, alright? Get some breakfast. I already ate, so don’t worry about me. By the time you get back, we’ll be able to leave.”

   Lance’s heart pounded in his chest. As soon as he was done eating breakfast, he could go on a _date_ with _Shiro._ It was literally a dream come true. He agreed, kissing Shiro’s head before he headed out of the room to go dig up some grub. Hunk would probably have already been up and made food, so he was hoping that he wouldn’t have to make anything for himself.

   And he was really, _really_ hoping that he and Shiro might get even closer during the trip. It was just going to be the two of them. Sure, sure, there were probably going to be other visitors, but they didn’t count. They didn’t know Lance and Shiro. They weren’t their friends. If the other visitors saw them holding hands or being stupidly lovey-dovey, they wouldn’t give a shit; there wouldn’t be any teasing or snickering or any of the stuff that usually happened in the Castle. The others supported them, yeah, but the incessant _awww, you’re so cute together_ and laughter followed by _so I guess you’re finally getting laid, right?_ got really annoying really fast. They meant well, but…

   If they went somewhere that they didn’t know anyone, they didn’t have to be _Lance and Shiro, finally together after Lance confessed._ They could just be a _couple_ like every other normal couple in the universe.

   Under those circumstances, there was no telling what might happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


	5. Do You Really Think I Don't?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro takes Lance out on their date.  
> It doesn't go as smoothly as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I just posted a chapter of this, like, the other day, but listen. I started working on this new chapter at like 1:30a.m. and the next thing I know it's 4:10a.m. and this new chapter is DONE and I just... idk how my life turned out like this honestly

   God, how long had it been since Lance was able to just play in the water? The water there was a bit… thicker, he supposed, than it was on Earth, but it was still a type of water. He could run in it and splash around in it, and, hell, if he felt brave enough, he could probably drink it. He wasn’t going to do that, though. Shiro, being a  _ responsible adult _ and everything, had brought drinks and food for them. He carried it all in a backpack-like bag; it was bulky and ugly, but it was better than having to try to get some money to take with them so they could buy stuff when they already had plenty of stuff at the Castle.

   Lance couldn’t be bothered to be concerned about something like that, though. Not right then. Because Shiro was holding his hand as they walked through a glass tunnel, water and fish surrounding them on all sides. There were a few other people in the tunnel, including two small children who were running around and squealing every time one of the big fish swam above them. But, somehow, Lance barely noticed them. It was funny. Back on Earth, he had loved little kids, considering how many there were in his family and the fact that they lived in a very family-oriented neighborhood. He was like everyone’s big brother around there. If this was an aquarium on Earth, he’d probably watch the kids as well as the fish, smiling to himself about how cute and excitable they were. Not now, though. Not this time.

   Not while he was on a date with Shiro. 

   The path sloped upward. It wasn’t long before they exited the tunnel and walked back out into the light of the sun. At least, as much sun as they could get; on either side of the path was water, naturally, and along the edges of the water were tall, beautiful trees of a type Lance had never seen. They had thick branches from which grew impressive clumps of leaves, all lavender purple and shimmering in the light. As they walked along, Lance realized that the trees had a sweet smell to them. 

   “This is nice, isn’t it?” Shiro asked, even though he knew full well what Lance was going to say.

   Lance smiled. “This is incredible,” he replied. “Seriously, thank you so much for bringing me here.”

   Shiro rolled his eyes, then looked over at Lance. “I told you that you don’t need to thank me.”

   “I know, I know,” Lance said, meeting Shiro’s gaze. Their walk slowed to a stop. “It’s just… I’m not used to this sort of thing, so I feel like I should thank you.”

   “At least don’t thank me  _ yet _ , alright? I have a little surprise in mind.”

   “Really? What is it?”

   “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

   “Jerk,” Lance teased. “I wanna know.”

   Shiro shrugged and started walking again, tugging Lance along with him. “You’ll just have to wait and see, then.”

   “ _ Fine _ . It better be worth it.”

   “If it isn’t, you can absolutely yell at me for getting your hopes up.”

   “Like I would ever yell at you.”

   “You literally yelled at me last night when I stole the food off your fork.”

   “That was my food! You don’t just  _ eat _ someone’s food!” He huffed. “And anyway, that’s different. I wasn’t  _ really _ mad at you, so it wasn’t  _ really _ yelling.”

   “If you say so.”

   Lance suddenly let out a gasp. His eyes had fallen upon a fountain down a branching path; it was  _ huge _ , all white carven stone. It wasn’t just any old fountain, though. The carving depicted several mermaids lounging on a large rock, water running in distinct, specific paths from the top downwards and bubbling up at any places where the mermaids’ tails went down into the main basin of water. And that wasn’t even the best part, either. The best part was that, judging by the few people already doing it, he could  _ climb on it.  _ There was a stone bridge that rose from the path to the rock the mermaids were on, allowing easy access. There seemed to be specific footholds and handholds along the whole mass of the rock, all strategically placed so nobody would step on one of the mermaids and risk breaking something.

   He  _ immediately _ started pulling Shiro towards the fountain. “We have to take pictures with it, Shiro,” he said excitedly. “We  _ have _ to.”

   A sign by the fountain that he couldn’t read before crushed his hopes of actually getting up on the rock. He couldn’t actually  _ read _ it, of course, so he asked one of the people sitting on a nearby bench. And they told him that it said that only children were allowed to actually climb on the rock, but adults were allowed to walk over the bridge with their kids. Well, that sucked. He had kind of wanted to be king of mermaid rock, but alright. Shiro was still tall enough for them to get some good pictures with it.

   Shiro wouldn’t say it, but he was getting really tired of being the designated selfie taker. Lance—sweet, precious Lance—apparently wanted photo evidence of every single thing they saw. Maybe it was a sentimental thing; Shiro had never been the type to take a lot of pictures of anything, really, so he wasn’t quite sure. But it made Lance happy when they took gross cute pictures together, so that was what Shiro did. 

   It was worth it, too.

   Lance hadn’t stopped smiling since they got there.

 

—

 

   Lance didn’t like losing his sight, he discovered. He had never known for sure how he felt about blindfolds, considering he had never really  _ used _ them, so when Shiro suddenly pulled one out of the bag and told Lance that he’d be wearing it until it was time for the special surprise, he had figured it was as good a time as any to figure it out. Maybe he’d be more into it if he wasn’t freaked the fuck out about  _ walking _ with it on. Sure, Shiro was leading him very carefully, but Lance couldn’t see and only knew that they were headed vaguely uphill. If he, for any reason, tripped and fell because he couldn’t see anything, he’d probably end up rolling the whole fucking way back down. 

   Okay, so this was a shitty way to figure out if he was into blindfolded sex. He wasn’t quite sure why he had thought it was a good idea in the first place.

   Whatever. He just had to take it slow, nice and easy, hold Shiro’s hand and trust him to get him safely to their destination. Even if he was constantly scared that his legs would give out or something, considering how much walking they’d been doing. It wasn’t that he was out of shape, obviously. He had to be at least  _ somewhat _ in shape to be able to be a paladin. That being said, paladin work didn’t usually involve walking all day. It was mostly… quick bursts of energy during battles, not long-hauls like this. But Shiro’s stride never faltered and he held Lance’s hand tightly, telling him that he was going great and that they only had a little bit further to go. 

   A thousand possibilities raced through Lance’s mind. What was about to happen? Where was Shiro leading him? He hadn’t heard the babbling of water for some time now, so it was apparently somewhere inland. That was kinda weird, but alright. If they were going uphill, though, they’d probably be able to see plenty of water from the vantage point. Oh, fuck. That was probably  _ exactly _ what it was. That was so romantic,  _ shit _ . Shiro probably wanted Lance to be able to look out over everything.

   There was just one more problem with that, though. On the side of the moon where they currently were, it had been getting dark when Shiro put the blindfold on him. Would he still be able to see when Shiro finally took it off? When he thought about it, though, there hadn’t been  _ that _ many buildings around the area they had decided to explore. There were streetlights, yes, but not a lot of buildings that produced a lot of light. Hopefully that meant that there wouldn’t be too much light pollution to block out the light of the stars.

   This was just  _ too _ exciting. Lance’s heart beat wildly and his stomach twisted itself in and out of knots as they walked. He had been in physical contact with Shiro nearly all day, save for when he had gone to eat breakfast and then the occasional bathroom break. After everything that had happened since Lance confessed, he had thought that he was used to touching Shiro. For the most part, he was. The moment that blindfold went on, though, everything went up a level. It felt like Shiro’s skin was hotter, more intense. He had no idea what was going to happen next.

   Oh, shit, actually. If he just  _ ignored _ the part where he was walking up a hill without being able to see, he was… kind of into blindfolds. Huh. It had been a good way to figure it out, after all. Neat.

   It felt like a million years had passed by the time they finally,  _ finally _ stopped walking. Aside from the aching legs, pounding heart, and the nagging fear that he was going to trip and kill himself, Lance was doing just fine. Considering all of that, though… well, he hadn’t quite expected their date to end up like this. He let Shiro guide him to a bench and sit him down. 

   “Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them,” Shiro said, voice commanding but soft in a way Lance was pretty sure only he could pull off. 

   Lance sighed, shutting his eyes tightly underneath the black cloth. He, admittedly, had been trying to cheat and see through or around the fabric the whole time. He had failed, naturally. “Eyes are closed,” he said. “Question, though. How many people gave us weird looks on the way here?”

   Shiro chuckled, setting about untying the knot he had made to keep the blindfold in place. “A few,” he said. “Once we got away from the crowds, though, I don’t think anyone really saw. We’re all alone here.”

   Lance’s hopes skyrocketed. All alone? He was all alone with Shiro? On top of a hill probably overlooking a bunch of water that was probably reflecting the light of the stars? Oh, God. That was so romantic. Like, that was so romantic it was almost painful. He  _ loved _ it. Just the two of them, all alone on that bench. Lance was  _ absolutely _ about to have a makeout session on that bench. Fuck yeah.

   The knot came undone and Shiro took the cloth away from Lance’s face. He sat the bag down on the bench and shoved the strip of cloth back into one of the pockets, then sat down next to Lance. He watched his face as he said, “Alright. You can open your eyes.”

   Lance did. For a distinct moment, he was breathless.

   He had been right about being on a hill overlooking some star-reflecting water, but it was so much  _ more _ than that. He could see a thousand different types of foliage from there, the paths, lights from distant buildings and street lamps. The light wind carried to him the sounds of people’s sudden laughter, the sounds of birds he knew he would never get another chance to hear. The galaxy stretched out overhead, a multicolored band of gas and stars; it was completely different from the view Lance had had of the Milky Way during that big blackout that happened when he was in middle school, and yet… it was familiar. In that moment, he remembered that the universe was all connected. Even if he couldn’t be right next to his family right then, he wasn’t completely separated from them, not really. They were out there where they always were, waiting for him to get home. And he would. He’d go home to them one day. 

   A loud  _ splash _ caught his attention. He looked down to the vast lake that stretched out beneath them. He caught a glimpse of shining scales as a large fish launched itself out of the water and dove back in. One after the other, it was like a whole school of fish had decided that it was time to have a little bit of fun. He watched in awe. Even from far away like this, he could tell that the fish had a particular kind of strength lurking beneath those beautiful scales of theirs. He couldn’t help the huge smile on his face.

   Another fish leaped out of the water. Lance noticed that it was smaller than the others, more dull in color, but apparently one of the same species. For a brief moment, he felt sorry for the little thing. It couldn’t jump as high or as fast as the others, but it tried anyway. He got to his feet, cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled. “ _ Do your best! _ ” he called out, even though he knew it was foolish. It wasn’t like the fish could hear him. Even if it could, it wouldn’t understand. “ _ I’m rooting for you, little guy! _ ”

   Shiro chuckled. Lance looked back at him, felt his face heat up, and sat back down. Shiro wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “That was adorable.”

   “Shut up.”

   Shiro pressed a kiss to Lance’s temple. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You can’t stand it when I tell you that you’re adorable.”

   “It’s not that,” Lance said. “It’s just… I dunno. I don’t know why I yelled at that dumb fish.”

   “Because that’s the kind of person you are. Because you care about everything, even that little fish. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

   Lance was about to say something about how that was super gay, but the words died in his throat.  _ One of the things I love about you _ , Shiro had just said. Lance swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure why this was happening  _ now _ , why all of his doubts and fears had started to tear their way to the surface after hearing that, but that’s just what they were doing. He stared hard out at the water, unwilling to look over at Shiro for the moment. “Do you, though?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

   “Do I what?”

   “Love me.”

   Shiro sat in a stunned silence before asking, “Do you really think I don’t?”

   “It’s just…” God, Lance hadn’t meant to ever start down this path, but there he was. It might not have been too late. He could probably backtrack and just say something about how he hadn’t really been told that before, that he was overly emotional after having a real date with someone he really cared about. But he knew he couldn’t get away with it. Hell, after all the times he had already spilled his guts to Shiro, what was one more? What was one more breakdown to add to his ever-increasing list? “A-After you told me what you did with the blood I got all over your arm, you said that you’d do anything to make it up to me. And then I told you that you didn’t have to do that because blah, blah, blah, I’m in love with you. And you just… accepted. You went right for it.” 

   He clenched his fists to keep his hands from trembling. He was so  _ sick _ of this. Sick of being weak. Sick of being so scared all the time. “Did you mean it? Did you  _ really _ ? I know you—you’re gonna wanna say yes. You’ll want to tell me that, yeah, you really  _ do _ love me and that you really  _ have _ meant all of those things you’ve said about feeling comfortable with me in a way you don’t with the others, but don’t even think about lying to me. Not now. Was… was accepting my confession just that  _ anything _ you’d do to make it up to me? I want the truth.”

   The air rushed out of Lance’s lungs as Shiro grabbed him and pulled him into the tightest hug of his life. His bottom lip trembled; was Shiro hugging him to try to lessen the sting of being told that, yeah, it was all because of  _ that _ situation? What was Lance going to do? Could he keep functioning as a paladin, keep functioning every day and working so closely with someone he had offered everything to and been shut down by?

   Shiro’s grip loosened, but not enough for Lance to get out of the hug. “How long have you been thinking like that?” he asked softly.

   “Awhile,” Lance replied. “It… occurred to me a couple days later.”

   “ _ Lance _ ,” Shiro said with a sigh. “You should have talked to me right away. I don’t want you to  _ ever _ be afraid to talk to me about  _ anything _ , got it? I want to spare you as much suffering as possible.”

   Lance braced himself.

   “I meant it. I meant every word I said that day and I’ve meant every word I’ve said since.” Shiro’s voice had taken on the kind of tone it did when he talked about how much he hated himself for being a vampire. He hated himself for being a blood-sucking monster and he hated himself for not realizing earlier that Lance had doubts like that and he hated himself for not clearing it up earlier and—

   He took a deep breath. “Lance,” he said. “You want the truth? The truth is that I would have accepted your confession no matter what the circumstances were. I wanted to tell you, Lance, I really did. I wanted to tell you that I’ve always been tough on you because I know what you’re capable of. Because I know what an incredible person you are. I wanted to tell you how cute you look when you get out of bed in the morning, how pretty it is when your hair curls, how much I  _ hated _ that, while you and Keith and Hunk were totally comfortable going to the showers at the same time, I couldn’t do the same. Because I’m… ugh, Lance, I’m too  _ old _ for you. It’s not like I would have tried anything, obviously, but I knew that it’d be wrong of me to go in there in the first place when I already had feelings for you, even knowing you were still a minor back then when it started.”

   Lance almost choked on his spit. “What?”

   “Oh, come on. You expect me to believe that you didn't notice? I tried to distance myself for a long time. I thought that if I didn’t spend as much time with you, I’d get over it. I’d stop thinking gross shit about how attractive I think you are. I’d stop being that  _ creep _ . God, I’m already a blood-sucker. I don’t want to be… you know.  _ That _ . A pervert.”

   “I don’t know if _you_ noticed,” Lance said, “but we’re literally in space. Fighting purple guys who want universal domination. And that’s what you’re worried about?”

   “I do have morals, you know.” He finally let go of Lance and looked away. “Don’t you understand just how much I have to be ashamed of? How fucked up I am? I had figured out real quick that I was fucking disgusting for even  _ thinking _ , ‘ _ Oh, well, maybe I’ll ask him out when he’s an adult…’  _ So I thought that the best thing to do would be to act like I didn’t care about you that much so, maybe, I could trick myself into actually feeling that way. But I couldn’t.”

   “If… If I had already been eighteen when we met, though, would, uh, would you have gone for it?”

   “Without hesitation. But you weren’t, so I didn’t.”

   “Doesn’t that mean that you stuck to your morals, though?”

   Shiro scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? You’re really gonna try to make excuses for me?”

   “You didn’t lay a hand on me until I started this, Shiro. And, I dunno if you noticed, but I’m an adult. Probably almost nineteen by now.”

   “You don’t get it.”

   “Evidently not.”

   Shiro let a long, frustrated sigh. “But you asked me if I meant it. If I was really accepting your confession or if I was just trying to make it up to you. I was really accepting it, Lance. I had always thought that there was no way that you’d be interested in someone like  _ me _ . A vampire. An older one, at that. An older guy who started having feelings for you before…”

   Lance leaned in and thumped Shiro’s forehead. “I wanted it to be you even before we met,” he said. “Remember? You were my hero way before you even knew I existed. I… God, I had this stupid fantasy where we’d meet when I got to the Garrison and we’d fall in love and you’d kiss me and all that shit. You were already an adult by then. So, if you’re fucked up for having feelings for me but not acting on them before I got to be an adult, then I’m fucked up for ever thinking that it was okay for me to have stupid fantasies like that when I knew damn well that you could get in trouble for it if it happened somehow.”

   “That’s different.”

   “How?”

   “It’s normal for teenagers to be interested in older people, Lance. It’s… not normal the other way around.”

   Lance groaned. “Holy fuck. Okay, listen. I understand where you’re coming from. I really,  _ really _ do. But it’s not like I’m, God,  _ ten _ or something. I was  _ this close _ to being an adult when we met. I feel like that’s way less creepy than it could have been. Like, God, you could have been interested in  _ Pidge _ . That would’ve been unforgivable.”

   Shiro’s face scrunched up in apparent disgust. “I’d never touch Pidge.”

   “Or anyone else her age, right?”

   “Of course. I’m not that kind of person.”

   “That’s my point! You aren’t that kind of person.”

   “I’m still too old for you. Always have been.”

   “Bullshit. Look, I’m just sayin’. If eighteen-year-olds can legally date seventy-year-olds, I can date you. You didn’t cross any lines, so you don’t need to feel so bad.”

   Shiro sighed again, resting his knees on his thighs and hanging his head. “Today wasn’t supposed to end like this,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”

   Lance put a hand up to his chest to make sure that he hadn’t actually just been shot or something, considering that that was basically what it felt like. “It’s my fault,” he said. “I started it. I’m the one who freaked out about our relationship in the first place. I’m the one who needs to be sorry right now.” He leaned back and stared up at the sky. “How did we get to be like this?” he asked to no one in particular. “How did we get so messed up? What made you so convinced that it was wrong to be a vampire? What made you so sure that I’d think you were disgusting for developing feelings for me when I was seventeen even though you didn’t act on them? What makes me so sure that I’m replaceable? Why am I so fucking insecure that I question my relationship like this?” If it wasn’t so pathetic, he would have laughed. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”

   “Guess so,” Shiro agreed. “Is it weird that I feel better now, though? Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest.”

   Lance rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s not weird. I… feel better too, actually. So, while we’re at it, do you have any other secrets you’d like to share?”

   “No. That’s all I’ve got. You?”

   “All tapped out for now. Ask again in a month, though. I’m sure I’ll have something new to whine and cry about. Fuckin’ pathetic.”

   “It’s not pathetic, Lance. You’re still young and inexperienced. Unused to this sort of thing. It’s normal for you to be scared.”

   There was a brief silence between them. Then Lance sat back up properly and said, “Do you wanna start this whole thing over again? From the part where you called me adorable after I yelled at a fucking fish.”

   Despite everything, Shiro managed to laugh. “Sounds good.”

 

—

 

   Lance had fallen asleep a few minutes ago, his head resting on Shiro’s lap. Shiro pulled his tablet out of their bag and typed out a quick message to the Castle,  _ We’re done out here. Could someone please bring a pod for us? _

_    Of course _ , was the response he got. 

   It was Hunk. He landed the pod a little ways behind the bench and hopped out, saying that there was plenty of room for all three of them. And then he saw Lance asleep on Shiro and looked like he was in the middle of watching some adorable cat video. He stood to the side while Shiro picked Lance up in his arms and carried him into the pod, laying him down and buckling him in as carefully as possible.

   The next time Lance opened his eyes, he was in bed. For a moment, he was scared to death; the space next to him was empty. A vague recollection of the night’s events played in his head, a sort-of memory that said that Shiro had felt like he was gross for having feelings for Lance. Did Shiro separate them on purpose? He wouldn’t do that, would he?

   Then the door opened with a quiet  _ swish _ and Shiro walked into the room. Lance sat up a little, only to be told, “I just went to the bathroom,” as Shiro crawled back into bed. “Go back to sleep. It’s alright.”

   That was exactly what he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK HOW THIS CHAPTER TURNED OUT LIKE THIS HONESTLY  
> Like, I could make up some excuse about how this was some sort of commentary on "antis" and stuff but really? It's not tbh it's just me being a dick and thinking, "lol what if" and then doing it  
> So, y'know, maybe don't hurt me pls???? Idek if it's good/coherent enough for me to worry about that kind of thing honestly it's like 4:30 in the morning as I'm posting this so fuck it


	6. A Collection of Parts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is getting really tired of having long days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, first of all, I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this written and posted oh my god;; idk why I'm such a huge dumb-dumb and didn't get it done until now but I finally finished it aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

   Lance stretched out on Shiro’s bed, sighing heavily and whining, “Is Coran _ever_ going to let us take a break from these stupid shows?”

   The door closed behind Shiro, who _barely_ managed to get to his desk chair and sit down. He sat all hunched over, one of those things he _never_ did because it was bad for him. One of those things that only happened when he was too exhausted to care. He shook his head and said, “I wish I had an answer for you. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

   “Whatever it is, it’s killing me. I’m dead.”

   “You look pretty alive to me.”

   “I’m dead on the _inside_.”

   “Ah. I see.”

   Lance huffed in amusement. “What about you? Are you not dead?”

   “I’m starting to wish I was.”

   “ _Pft._ Fuckin’ same, dude.”

   Shiro sighed heavily. “The rest of you are handling it way better than I am, though. I’m fine with it physically, but… ugh. I’m not the type with the heart for this stuff. I’m not a performer.”

   “I think you’re doing well,” Lance said, looking over at Shiro. “None of us are really _good_ at this.”

   “Lance, you basically did a fucking Cirque du Soleil performance the other day. Don’t give me that shit.”

   “Okay, sure, but—”

   “Nope. You can’t _okay, sure, but_ your way out of this. I want to know where you learned how to do that.”

   “I watched a lot of gymnastics when I was a kid, I guess.”

   “Seriously? That’s it?”

   “I dunno what to tell you. It just… came naturally, I guess. I was probably a stripper in a past life.”

   “Oh my _God_.”

   “What does that mean? Like, _oh my God You’re ridiculous_ or _oh my God I wish I could’ve seen that_?”

   “Bit of both.”

   Lance grinned. “Hell yeah. I bet I was a _great_ stripper.”

   “I’d ask you to give me a show, but, fuck, I’m too tired to try to keep up. Can I get a rain check?”

   “Of course,” Lance said with a bit of a laugh, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I’m gonna go take a shower. You coming?”

   “As much as I’d like to…”

   “You should get in bed, then. Get some rest. I’ll be right back.”

   “Yeah, yeah. Alright.” As Lance headed for the door, Shiro managed to gather the will to get up out of his chair and make it over to the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and started to get undressed. He’d have to take a shower first thing in the morning and probably wash the sheets after sleeping on them when he was all gross, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make. He ended up crawling under the covers, stripped to his underwear, and _praying_ that they wouldn’t get a surprise show sprung on them the next day.

   He nodded off while waiting for Lance.

 

—

 

   Lance leaned against the wall in the shower, letting the warm water run down his body. It wasn’t really _water_ , though, not the water he knew from Earth. There were all sorts of weird liquids in the universe, apparently, and though a lot of them were far different than the stuff on Earth, their names were still picked up by the translator and heard as _water._ He stared down at the drain. He understood why Coran was so hyped up about doing shows and such; by performing plays and flight shows and all that shit, they were gathering more allies to their cause. The more people who interacted with Voltron, the more people they could trust to rise to the call when Voltron needed them. And, hell, it was actually kinda fun. Lance liked going out and interacting with people that way. He was _thrilled_ to find out how many fans he actually had. All this time, he had been convincing himself that Voltron didn’t need him or particularly want him, but then he went out there and people wanted to take pictures with him and they wanted his autograph and it was _incredible._

   But it was exhausting. As much fun as it was, it wasn’t normal. It was happening because Coran wasn’t _himself_ lately. He was always a bit eccentric, a bit strange and difficult to understand, but he was never like _this._ It had become an obsession and nobody was quite sure why. Lance yawned; he imagined Coran wide awake in his room, desperately plotting out their next show instead of sleeping.

   He finally managed to get himself washed and dried, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and throwing on his robe before making his way back towards Shiro’s room. Maybe it would be better for him to go to his own room so neither of them had to fuss about trying to get comfortable in Shiro’s tiny ass bed, but he couldn’t be bothered. His room was farther from the showers and he loved sleeping with Shiro. Fuck it. He walked back into Shiro’s room with the full intention of getting some sleep.

   Shiro was already asleep when Lance got in. He smiled softly and crossed the room, getting into bed next to Shiro. To give him space, though, Lance laid on his side, his back to Shiro, facing the wall.

   In his sleep, Shiro rolled over and draped an arm over Lance’s body. Lance sighed happily and snuggled into the embrace. A part of him still wondered if this could really be _real_ . He was amazed that he had ever been able to tell Shiro how he felt, he was amazed that Shiro had accepted his feelings, and, hell, he was amazed that Shiro had put up with him for this long. He was so happy. So, _so_ happy. But a part of him also felt a bit… bad. Not because he was unhappy with their relationship, of course, but because he remembered all of the times Shiro had doubted himself. The times that Shiro had acted like he was some kind of terrible person, like he really was a monster or a pervert or something stupid like that. It tore him apart. He didn’t want Shiro to ever feel like that again, he really didn’t, but, God, was there even anything he could do? He had reassured him so many times. He had tried to tell Shiro a thousand times that he was more than just bits and pieces of himself. Shiro wasn’t just the time he had been captured by the Galra, he wasn’t just his arm, his vampiric nature, any of it. He was a collection of parts that came together to form _Shiro_ , the person Lance was hopelessly in love with.

   He drifted off to sleep, soothed by the warmth of Shiro’s body next to his.

 

—

 

   Lance woke up to the feeling of a gentle… nibble, he thought, on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and managed to look over, seeing Shiro’s face close to his own, his mouth on Lance’s shoulder. Shiro’s eyes were closed; was he still asleep? Was he doing this unconsciously? Whatever it was, it was pretty cute. Lance let his eyes close again. Shiro was still holding him close, the way he had been last night.

   Shiro gave a tiny, sleepy moan. _Fuck._ That always fucked Lance up. Shiro’s grip on Lance tightened as he struggled to wake up. He took his mouth off of Lance as soon as he realized what he was doing. “Shit,” he muttered. “Sorry.”

   Lance shook his head. “You’re fine. It was cute.”

   “Was not.”

   “Totally was.”

   Shiro sighed his head and sat up. “I think… I think I was having a weird dream.”

   Lance sat up next to him. “You remember what it was about?”

   “No, not really,” Shiro said, and really, he was telling the truth. He had a nagging feeling that it was important somehow, and yet… he sighed again. “I’ll let you know if I remember whatever it was, alright?”

   “Alright,” Lance said, leaning against Shiro and holding onto his arm. “What’s on the agenda today?”

   Shiro paused to bring up the memories. “Hunk, Pidge, and Allura are headed to visit a couple of freed planets today to make sure everything is going alright for them. I think Coran is holed up somewhere working on some things. More plans for more events, probably—we’re all gonna have to gang up on him at some point to try to get him to calm down, probably sometime within the next couple days if we can. Oh, and, well. You’re not gonna like this part.”

   Lance got a nasty feeling in his gut. “Fuck, what is it?”

   “Remember that planet we went to recently? The one with flowers the size of trees, forests of the things. You almost cried when we ran into an oversized spider, then spent the rest of the day apologizing after you found out that the spiders were actually the people we were there to help.”

   “God, please, don’t make me go back there, Shiro,” Lance practically begged. “I can’t show my face there again! He said he forgave me, but…”

   “Just wait. It gets better.”

   “Fuck’s sake, what else is there?”

   “Keith is meeting us there.”

   A long, emotionally agonized _nooooooooooooooo_ sounded from Lance as he let go of Shiro and dramatically fell forward onto the bed. “Not _Keith_ ,” he groaned. “Why is he going to be there?”

   “Kolivan is coming too, if that helps.”

   “Normally I’d say that it does, but it _doesn’t!_ I don’t _wannaaaaa_!”

   “Don’t act like a child, Lance. You’re a big boy. You can handle it. Besides, you and Keith worked on your relationship a bit while I was gone, right? You don’t hate him as much as you used to.”

   “I _had_ to work with him! I _had_ to get to be better friends with him! I didn’t really _want_ to!” He groaned. “I’ve gotten used to him _not_ being here. Being away from him has been _great._ I don’t wanna hang out with him if I can avoid it.”

   “You can’t avoid it unless you want to ask Allura to swap you out with one of the others. It’ll be alright. I’ll be there, too. I’ll keep you in check and I’m sure Kolivan will keep Keith in check. I don’t think you two will have to bother with each other very much.”

   Lance groaned again, rolling over onto his back now and staring at the ceiling. He wanted to believe Shiro, he really did, but he fucking _hated_ this. If it could just be him and Shiro going out there, he could live with showing his face to the spider people he had almost had an anxiety attack over. “If I spend time around him, he’ll just show me up again.”

   Shiro ran a hand down his face, rather exasperated by now. He was pretty sure the two of them would never find peace, would they? “Listen, okay? You don’t need to be so hung up on that. Maybe you think he’s going out of his way to try to look good, but I’ve known him plenty long enough to know that he rushes in blindly while putting all of his faith into dumb luck. It tends to work out for him because he doesn’t over analyze everything. He doesn’t hesitate. That lack of hesitation is what gets him so far so fast. But you? You care more. You put more heart into everything you do. It’s love and kindness, not… anger. Not just being rash. It’s not that he’s better than you and I _know_ I’ve told you this before. You two just do things differently. That doesn’t make him better, it doesn’t make you worse. The two of you are just different people.” He reached out and laid a hand on Lance’s stomach. “And, clearly, I ended up really liking _you_ , fuck-ups and all _._ So if you don’t stop acting like he’s some kind of god instead of another fucked up person, I will start to tickle you and I will not stop until you’re _literally_ crying and begging for mercy.”

   Lance sighed almost longingly. “That could’ve been so sexy in a different context.”

   “Are you gonna start acting like an adult or am I going to have to do it, Lance? Your choice.”

   Lance thought back to the last time something like this happened. He remembered his stomach hurting from laughing too much, the way his lungs cried for air but couldn’t get nearly enough because of the endless barrage of tickles. And he decided it wasn’t fucking worth going through that again, even if it meant having to be _civil_ to Keith. “Alright, alright. Fine. You win. I’ll make an effort, I guess.”

   Shiro removed his hand. “That’s good, but I still expect a little more. Maybe I’ll give you some kind of reward if you behave out there.”

   Oh, that was unfair. “Dude, you _know_ I’m bound to tell him to shut up. It’s like… a requirement. I physically cannot _not_ tell him to shut up at least once.”

   “You’d prefer a punishment, then?”

   “You suck.”

   “That’s not an answer. Will you behave or not?”

   “I… ugh. You know I’ll try.”

   “Not good enough, babe. You either will or you won’t. Which is it?”

   “Fuck, _seriously?_ ”

   “Yes, seriously.”

   Lance whined. He knew well enough what both rewards and punishments entailed. Truthfully, _punishment_ was stretching it a long fucking way; sure, that time he got tickled half to death sucked ass, but it was still kinda fun. One time his quote-unquote _“punishment”_ was just to take a cold shower to refocus himself after he got too upset out there, which really was pretty awful because Lance hated cold showers, but it ended well anyway because after Shiro was sure he learned his lesson—that he shouldn’t get too hot-headed over something that wasn’t really that important, though that particular event was another story for another time—he took responsibility to warm Lance up again. And it was pretty fucking great. Those _punishments_ usually ended well, but… but the rewards were incredible from start to finish, so he couldn’t help but be a bit partial to those.

   So he resigned himself to a day of silently suffering in exchange for some _real good shit_ later on and said, “Okay. Okay, I get it. I’ll behave.”

   Shiro grinned triumphantly, that _ass._ “Good boy. Now, let’s go get some breakfast.”

 

—

 

   “What are you guys seeing over there?” Keith’s voice said over the comm. Lance bit his tongue hard enough to make his eyes water.

   Shiro started to say, “There’s three—”

   Lance cut in. “Four. There’s four. One’s obscured by the brush.”

   “Four, then,” Shiro corrected. “Four Galra scouts. No fighters in sight. They’ve been taking samples of the plants as they go. Kolivan, what was it that the Galra were doing here before we drove them out? You know more about it than I do.”

   “Recently, they have been experimenting with including organic materials in quintessence-based batteries. I believe some of the plants here are particularly useful in their experiments.”

   “Should we take ‘em out?” Lance asked. The scanners said nothing about other intruders; there were no Galra ships aside from the tiny one the scouts had arrived in.

   “Of course,” Kolivan replied.

   Before anyone else moved a muscle, Keith was already on the move. Lance started to groan but cut himself off; still, he knew Shiro had heard it. Instead of bringing it up, though, they moved right on along. Four scouts were nothing compared to what they were used to dealing with, so the fight was over before it even really began. After that, it was on to visiting a nearby village to check up on them. Everything was fine there, and though there was concern that more Galra would try to return, everyone felt much better once that small group had been exterminated.

   Moment by moment, the day passed. The group continued to make their rounds, visiting different people around the planet and making sure that they were all doing well and that they hadn’t seen any Galra recently. Other than that one group of scouts, there hadn’t been any other activity. Everything was proceeding just as planned as they made their trip, right up until the moment that Kolivan and Keith received a comm from some other members of the Blade in a different quadrant. They left almost immediately, barely saying goodbye to anyone before leaving. Shiro had offered to come with them for backup, but they refused, saying it was just Blade business that they could handle on their own. Which, of course, Lance interpreted as Keith saying that he was _too good_ to need their help.

   So, yeah, Lance was suddenly in a shitty mood, even though the people on this planet loved him. He did his best to smile and talk to people, tried to make sure he seemed happy and everything, but… the talk he and Shiro had had earlier still weighed on him. He had said that Keith would just try to show him up again and, while he knew that Keith wasn’t actually making an effort to do that, he was still pissed off. Because Keith was so quick to race into battle. Because Keith had already taken out two of them by the time Lance got there. Because Keith was a hero to those people after the heard that he had jumped right in. Because Keith got called out to super special Blade work and thought he was too fucking good to need any help.

   He hated this. He knew he was probably wrong, probably just overreacting. If it was just Blade work, there really was no reason for Lance to be so ticked off about their help being denied. And the fact that Keith was the first to jump in to fight the scouts wasn’t a big deal, really, because Keith was just that kind of person. He sighed softly. He was ready for this day to be over. He wasn’t convinced he’d be able to get through the rest of it.

   He’d do his best, anyway. Just so Shiro would be proud.

 

—

 

   By the time they got back to the Castle, Lance was pretty sure he was gonna die. He whined the whole way home, telling Shiro about how tired he was and how upset he was that he hadn’t been able to enjoy hanging out with the people on that planet the way he might have been able to. Shiro, being the kind of guy he was, quietly listened as Lance ranted on and on about how shit of a day it had been for him. He wanted to be home already.

   So when they got home, instead of trying to get Lance on his feet, Shiro picked him up out of the pilot seat of Red and carried him. Lance rested his head on Shiro’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m the worst.”

   “No you aren’t,” Shiro replied.

   “I am, though. He… he didn’t even do anything that _should_ piss me off. It all just _did_ . And so I couldn’t be _nice_ and you had to pick up the slack and be double nice to everyone for me.” He sighed and tried to convince himself that he wouldn’t cry. “I’m sorry you always have to take care of me like this.”

   Shiro got him to his bedroom. “Hush,” he said. “You’re okay.” He sat down on the edge of his bed, leaving Lance on his lap and holding him close. “It’s alright. I know you just had a bad day. You didn’t really have any time to mentally prepare for trying to work with him after so long of not having to do that. You’re alright. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

   Lance sighed miserably anyway. “I’m… I’m just always being such a fucking _bitch_. You shouldn’t have to look after me half as much as you do.”

   “Being able to look after you is an honor.”

   “Bullshit.”

   “It is. I love you. Being here for you like this makes me really happy, Lance. I don’t ever want you to be upset, obviously, but I get to be the one who holds you like this. You don’t understand how happy that makes me. I want you to rely on me, okay? I want you to come to me when you need someone to take care of you. I don’t ever want you to think that you aren’t worth whatever trouble you might cause.” He kissed Lance’s cheek. “You’re my boy, alright? Don’t forget that.”

   “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

   Shiro pulled him as close as he could. “And you know what? I said that I’d give you a reward if you behaved. You did great today. It was hard, wasn’t it? Having it sprung on you that we’d have to spend a lot of time with Keith today? Trying to be friendly with everyone even though you were upset?”

   Lance nodded.

   “I thought so. You were so strong, though. You didn’t complain at all until we were on the way home. I’m so proud of you, babe. So let me give you that reward, okay? We can do whatever you want. What do you want me to do for you?”

   Lance lifted his head and looked at Shiro. “I want to take care of you for once.”

   “Oh? What ideas do you have in that head of yours?”

   He hesitated. “I… ugh. You’ll just say no again.”

   “Lance, come on. How many times have I told you no?”

   “Each and every single fucking time I’ve tried to get you to properly bite me.”

   “ _Seriously_? That’s where you’re taking this?”

   “I told you you’d say no.”

   Shiro sighed and momentarily looked up at the ceiling. “You’re gonna kill me at some point, you know. You know damn well why I haven’t been doing it.”

   “And _you_ know damn well why I want you to.”

   “You… you know what? Fine. Fuckin’ fine. You want me to bite you? Right here? Right now? That’s what you want?”

   “Yes,” Lance said. “That’s what I want.” He said it, but, fuck, he was so sure that he’d get rejected again. All Lance wanted was to be useful. He and Shiro were happy together, of course, but it was so _frustrating_ that Shiro kept turning him down again and again and _again_. It didn’t matter if it hurt. It had hurt the first time they had sex, but, pft, they’d done it anyway. And then they’d done it again. And they’d done it several times after that, too. Shiro was always so fucking good to him, and yet… he wouldn’t let Lance be good to him in return. And a part of him still thought that it was because he wasn’t good enough.

   At least, he was sure Shiro wouldn’t do it until he felt Shiro’s fangs digging into his flesh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls spare my life


	7. Did You Enjoy It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro finally gave Lance what he wanted and took what he needed. But the universe is far too complicated for Shiro's vampiric nature to remain their largest concern for very long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All y'all wanted this shit and Lance wanted this shit and I wanted this shit SO HERE YA GO HERE'S THE SHIT I PROMISED

   Lance couldn’t deny the instinct to  _ grab _ . His hands flew up and his fingers tangled in and grasped at Shiro’s hair, his grip tightening and pulling; if getting his hair pulled like that hurt at all, Shiro didn’t show it. If anything, it seemed like he took it as an encouragement. He bit down harder, his teeth sinking that much further into Lance, widening the holes and encouraging more blood to flow. 

   Lance had never had a bad experience with needles. A couple of shots over the course of his life had hurt, naturally, and getting blood taken for testing was never  _ fun _ , but he had mostly handled it like a fucking champ. But those were needles, not fangs, so why had he expected  _ this  _ to be like  _ that _ ? He couldn’t keep his eyes open, couldn’t keep his head from falling back, couldn’t keep from feeling like he just might throw up. 

_    No _ , he told himself. He was  _ not  _ going to ruin this. He’d been trying to get this to happen for so fucking long now that he would do whatever it took to keep himself from fucking it up. It hurt like a bitch. He felt like all of the blood had drained from his head, leaving the back of his neck feeling cold and empty, making his ears ring and feel like they just might burst; his stomach churned at the feeling of the sharp points digging into him. And, for no apparent reason, he wondered how hypochondriacs  _ survived.  _ Being so paranoid about health would lead to a lot of needles all the time, right? So how did they do it? Right then, he felt like a metric fuckton of needles were all being stabbed into him at once. Well, did anyone ever have  _ that _ many needles in their body at once anyway? Maybe he was trying to make a connection where there wasn’t one, if only to keep himself distracted. 

   God, he felt physically  _ terrible.  _ He was about to try to tell Shiro to stop, that he felt sick and didn’t think he could take much more of this—and then Shiro fucking  _ moaned _ and the words died in Lance’s throat. Had… had Shiro ever done that before? They’d both made some stupid sounds with each other, but Shiro didn’t  _ moan.  _ He was too… stoic? Something like that. So did Shiro really like it that much? Had he really been so starved of this that he’d do something so out of character? Fuck’s sake. Lance took a deep breath and held on a little tighter. He could get through this. Just a little while longer. Just long enough for Shiro to be nice and satisfied. 

   Another wave of nausea crashed over him about the time Shiro put an end to the bite. There was, naturally, a bit of a gush of blood at the removal of his teeth, which he was sure to lap up before he went reaching for whatever loose cloth he could find. In the end, there really wasn’t anything besides the bedsheets and the pillows, so he tore the pillowcase off of one and pressed it to the wound, holding it steady with his Galra hand. Despite the context of  _ why _ he was holding a pillowcase to the junction of Lance’s shoulder and throat, he thought to himself that this was the first time in a long time that that part of him had been used for healing. 

   All in all, the encounter couldn’t have lasted longer than a couple minutes. Even though he felt like it kept going on and on and  _ on _ , he knew that it couldn’t have been anything close to that. He’d probably feel a thousand times worse if it really had gone on for so long. Shiro gently rubbed Lance’s back with his free hand as Lance tried to catch his breath. He hadn’t realized he had hardly been breathing while Shiro was biting into him. The moment Shiro’s fangs punctured the skin was incredible, a strange and unfamiliar pleasure that he supposed was the physical incarnation of his relief that Shiro really did like him enough to do things like that with him. After that, though… it hurt. It hurt like hell. It was terrible. It was awful. It made him sick to his stomach and he never wanted to do it again, but he knew he would. He would do it again because, even though it was awful, Shiro was happy. Shiro enjoyed those few moments. Shiro finally accepted that he was, whether he liked it or not, a vampire that wanted—on some level  _ needed _ —blood, and had someone who was willing to provide, even if that someone was slumped against him and on the verge of tears. 

   “I’m sorry,” Shiro whispered.

   Lance didn’t shake his head the way he wanted to for fear that he would move the pillowcase and start bleeding freely. He didn’t know how long it would take for those holes to stop bleeding, after all. It wasn’t like he had any past experience. He just held onto Shiro and managed to whisper back, “Did you enjoy it?”

   Shiro was silent for a moment. He wasn’t sure there was really a  _ good _ way to answer that; he didn’t enjoy hurting Lance, but,  _ ugh. Fuck.  _ It had been so long since he had last had human blood, and even then, it had never been so directly from the source. His eyes had just about rolled back in his head. So he eventually said, “I… yeah, I did.”

   Lance smiled to himself. “That’s all I wanted. I wanted to be able to make you feel good.”

   “You know you do that all the time.”

   “It’s different, though. You have one more need than I do. You provide for all of my needs, so I want to provide for all of yours.”

   “Your needs don’t result in someone getting hurt.”

   “ _ Shiro. _ ”

   “I know, I know,” Shiro said. “You don’t want me to think that way. What do you expect me to do, though? Just forget about all of it?”

   Lance sighed. He felt the warmth of his own sticky blood against his skin, held into place by that pillowcase. “Yes,” he whispered. “I wish you’d just forget about all of it. I wish you’d forget the Galra, your arm, your age, your species, all of it. I wish you’d just… focus on Voltron and me. I know—I know that’s selfish. I know it’s  _ incredibly _ selfish of me to want that kind of thing. It’s shitty for me to even  _ consider _ a reality where you only worry about two things. But you don’t understand how  _ frustrating _ this is, Shiro. You don’t. You have no idea how much it sucks for me to want you to feel better while having you repeatedly refuse it.”

   Shiro scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding? Lance, I had feelings like that  _ long _ before you approached me about the blood thing.”

   “What do you mean? Whatever the fuck you’re talking about is nothing like this.”

   “Listen, you know that I love you more than anything, but you’re a serious contender to be the  _ densest _ person I know. You’re right, okay? I have no fucking idea what it’s like to want someone to  _ drink my blood _ , but don’t you  _ dare _ act like you’re the only one in this relationship who wants to give something that the other won’t receive. Jesus, day in and day out I’m trying to get it through your  _ thick fucking skull _ that you’re  _ good _ , but you never  _ fucking _ listen. And you know what the worst part is? I don’t even see you as just _ good _ , okay, I have to lower myself to that level just to try to get you to hear  _ some _ of what I say. You impress me every  _ fucking _ day and I keep trying to get you to see how  _ incredible _ you are, but I can’t even convince you that you don’t look like a dork when you’ve just woken up. Don’t tell me that I don’t know how it feels, Lance. Don’t you fucking dare. I don’t understand you, you know that? You’re so… desperate, I think, for validation, but when I try to give it to you, you shut down nine times outta ten. You don’t listen to me at  _ all _ and you keep stressing yourself out trying to be  _ perfect _ . If you think a bit of a  _ sore throat _ when I haven’t had blood even comes  _ close _ to comparing to having to see how your face falls when you think you fucked up, you’re  _ so fucking wrong _ I don’t even know how to  _ say _ it.”

   Lance was silent for a long moment before he was finally able to say, “It’s different.”

   “How? How is it different?”

   “It just  _ is. _ ”

   “Bullshit! It’s not  _ different _ at all, Lance! It’s not!”

   “It  _ is _ !” Lance practically yelled, straining himself more than he should have considering the  _ gaping holes _ in his flesh, but he wasn’t exactly thinking about that right then. “If I didn’t try to shove my blood down your throat, I  _ know _ you’d still be fine because you can, like, kill animals and shit, okay? I know. I get it. You don’t  _ need _ it from me right now. You aren’t starving to death or anything. But I  _ have _ to  _ try _ , Shiro. If—If I’m not perfect, or at least  _ somewhat _ better than I am now, if I don’t give you  _ some good fucking reason _ to stay, you’re gonna—”

   “—So help me  _ God,  _ if you say that I’ll leave you because you aren’t  _ perfect _ , I won’t forgive you. I really won’t.”

   This time, Lance stayed silent.

   Shiro sighed. The exasperation in the sound hurt Lance more than any bite ever could. He’d done it again, hadn’t he? He’d upset Shiro again. “Lance,” Shiro said. “I know I’m hard to deal with, but… have… have I been such a shitty boyfriend that you think I’ll abandon you just because you didn’t do something perfectly? What, do you—do you think I’m keeping a tally? Things you’ve done well and things you’ve fucked up with? Like, if the  _ fucked this up  _ tally gets to a certain point I’ll just throw you away?”

   “That would make more sense than you being willing to  _ continuously _ put up with me. God knows nobody else has ever wanted to. Except maybe my mom, I guess. I’m not… I’m not like you, you know that. I have about enough of my shit together to fit into a coin purse, okay, and the rest of it is scattered all over the damn place and I don’t think I’m ever gonna get it all together and  _ why _ would anyone be willing to put up with that? Why would  _ you _ ?”

   “Would you just fucking  _ stop it _ ?” Shiro demanded. “Yes, you have flaws. I’m  _ well aware _ of the fact that you don’t have all your shit together. And, sure, fuck, maybe you think that I have my shit together because I’m  _ mature _ and  _ organized _ and this and that, blah, blah, blah. That’s bullshit. I don’t have all my shit together, okay,  _ nobody _ does. All of us are broken, Lance. Not one person alive knows exactly what they’re going to do next year, next month, next week, tomorrow, or, hell, five minutes from now. People can schedule their lives and try to control their emotions all they want, but they can’t do anything about what the universe has planned for them.  _ Everyone _ will come across something at some point or another that’ll catch them off guard and throw them off. Nobody—and I mean  _ nobody _ —is perfect. And you know what? People can love each other anyway. It doesn’t matter if a person is stupid, or ugly, or bad at cooking, or terrible at keeping a bedroom clean, or can’t focus well, or have trouble staying calm, or  _ fucking whatever _ . People will still love them. People will always love  _ you _ .”

   “Will they?”

   Shiro came close to rolling his eyes but avoided doing so. His voice softened. “I know. I know it’s hard, I know that it seems like everyone is doing better than you are and you can’t measure up to anyone. I know that it feels like, everywhere you look, someone is doing better than you are. They’re all better, right? They’re all living better lives than you are, aren’t they? None of them could ever want to spend time with someone so inferior, right?”

   Lance didn’t want to react, but he nodded slightly anyway.

   “And that’s bullshit, Lance.  _ Everyone _ feels that way. Someone who thinks that they’re unlovable is bound to be loving someone else who  _ also _ thinks that they’re unlovable. It goes on and on and on until everyone thinks that they have some glaring flaws that make them worthless while they’re busy loving others who think the same way. You… you think that it’s impossible for me to completely adore you because I’ve accomplished some interesting things and that accomplishment is reflected in my personality and behavior, while people don’t take you seriously because you’re the kind of person who likes to flirt and make jokes. And I think that it’s insane that you could love me because you’re so incredibly strong that you can keep going even when you feel like shit, and while you were strengthening yourself in school, most of who I used to be was getting torn apart in the Galra arena until the only things that remained were my hatred of being a vampire and the  _ physical need _ to do something about the Galra. I’m so much more prejudice and bitter than I let people think I am, but you love me anyway. And I love  _ you _ anyway.”

   “God, that deep thinking maturity horseshit is what makes me so worried,” Lance said. “I just… I know you have a lot of shit going on. I know you have your own problems. And I don’t want you to have to help clean up my messes on top of your own just because I can’t handle my shit by myself since I’m just not as skilled as the others are. I don’t… I don’t ever want to our relationship to feel like you're my babysitter, but… I’m not as grown up as you are, I guess.”

   Shiro grabbed Lance’s hair and gently pulled his head back so he could see him. “You and me, babe,” he said. “I don’t care how fucked up you are or how far you have to go to get where you want to be. I love you anyway. You’re in love with me, too, yeah? You don’t care how fucked up  _ I _ am. We’re in this together.”

   Despite how many different emotions were pulsing through his veins, regardless of the combination of fear and doubt and love and the intense desire to cry, Lance managed to smile anyway. Shiro kissed him, and there for a moment, Lance felt like he might really be okay.

 

—

 

   Lance’s heart had sunk into his stomach when Lotor said those words.  _ It is time we had a discussion.  _ From there, it had all been a bit of a blur; there was so much  _ action _ , so much he had to try to keep up with while his thoughts ran wild. What the fuck did Lotor want? What was he planning? There was something— _ something _ —that Lotor was keeping to himself, some horrible motivation. Lotor wouldn’t come to them unless there was something he wanted from them. 

   Lotor didn’t resist when Voltron took him into custody, just rolled his eyes and said something about how this really wasn’t necessary. They threw him into an isolated cell dangling over an empty pit, its only connection being to the catwalk that led to the pit’s only exit. Now, Lance wasn’t sure  _ why _ the castle had a magic cell dangling over a ridiculously large empty pit, but he was glad that they did. A part of him wanted to trust Lotor. A part of him wanted to believe that what Lotor said was all true and that he  _ didn’t  _ have some evil ulterior motive. How could he, though? Lotor… Lotor was… he didn’t know what Lotor was, but he just  _ couldn’t  _ trust him, even if he wanted to have faith that he wasn’t a huge fucking liar. 

   Even as Lotor gave them accurate information time and time again, there was something about him that Lance couldn’t trust. And maybe that thing was that  _ Shiro  _ was starting to trust him more and more by the day. Lance trusted Shiro, but he didn’t trust the effect Lotor had on him. Out of everyone in the Castle, Shiro trusted Lotor the most.  _ Shiro.  _ Shiro, who had been held captive and used as a fucking gladiator in the Galra’s twisted arena, believed the things Lotor said. Lotor, the son of the most destructive, rotten Galra in history. 

   There was something very wrong with that picture. 

   Lance grabbed Shiro’s wrist as he walked out into the hallway the catwalk connected to. Allura came walking out behind him, raising an eyebrow at Lance but saying nothing; couple business, she figured, based on the way he grabbed Shiro like that. It was none of her business, so she simply nodded at the two of them and kept on walking. Shiro looked at Lance with confusion in his eyes.

   “We need to talk,” Lance said quietly, staring down at the floor instead of his boyfriend’s face.

   Shiro felt like his stomach flipped itself inside out. “What’s wrong?” he asked, following without hesitation when Lance pulled him away from the doorway. “Did I—Did I do something wrong?”

   Lance now moved his gaze to where he held Shiro’s wrist. He had grabbed the human one. He couldn’t even touch his middle finger and his thumb together, the way he could with his own wrist. He almost smiled; what a strange thing to notice at that particular moment. But he didn’t smile, just kept staring with a straight face. “Not really. I just…” He trailed off into a sigh. “Are you… are you sure about Lotor? Really? It—It’s not that I don’t trust you, okay, you  _ know _ I do. You know I trust you with everything. I mean, fuck, you’ve got my heart and my fucking life in each of your hands and you  _ know that.  _ But I’m not sure about this, okay? I don’t trust him. I know we have a few reasons to trust him, okay, I  _ know.  _ He’s an enemy of the Empire, technically. His father wants him dead and those lady friends of his ditched him and now he’s giving us all this information to work on chipping away at his father’s regime, but… fuckin’ shit, dude. I’m scared, okay? I’m scared. Nobody else here trusts him the way  _ you _ do. And I’m… I’m kinda worried that, I dunno, maybe he’s got some kind of creepy Galra influence over you? I—I don’t want you to think that I’m, like, laser-focusing on your  _ arm _ or anything, because I swear I’m not, but—”

   Shiro yanked his wrist out of Lance’s hand, freeing it only so he could use both hands to grab Lance’s waist and lift him up and hold him against the wall. Before Lance could gather his thoughts again and say something, Shiro kissed him hard and drove the thoughts even further away. “Lance,” he said firmly after he eventually broke away. “I get it, this must seem weird after, well, after  _ everything _ . I can’t properly explain why I trust him, I’m sorry. I  _ wish _ that I could, if only to put your mind at ease, but I  _ can’t.  _ The thing is… other than Allura and Coran, don’t you think I know the Galra best out of everyone? Even if I’ve forgotten most of the shit that happened, even if I repressed those memories to try to keep myself safe somehow, I will  _ never _ forget how it feels to be around them. I  _ know _ what it’s like to stand in front of a Galra hellbent on causing misery and destruction. You know how vampires have heightened senses left over from when we didn’t know how to live without actively hunting? The Galra, they… God, they have this certain _ scent.  _ And it’s not just a  _ smell _ . It’s different.”

   Lance got the feeling that he’d be there for a hot minute, so he rested his hands on Shiro’s shoulders.

   Shiro shook his head like he hated the memories inside of it. “Humans, for instance, have a distinct scent. Humans smell like copper and earth and…” He chuckled. “Saltwater. Copper, earth, and saltwater. That’s what humanity’s scent is like. But when they  _ feel _ something, it changes a bit. Intense anger, sadness, hatred, envy… all of them add a  _ smell  _ to that scent. Does that make sense?” 

   Not overly so, but Lance got the gist of it, so he nodded. 

   “When you’re  _ really  _ sad, Lance, it smells like… it smells like onion, actually. All human sadness smells like  _ onion.  _ I don’t know why that is, it just  _ is.  _ And when I was with the Galra, I realized that they have a scent like iron, campfire smoke, and pine needles. Their emotions have different smells, too. Just the way humans do.” He kissed the tip of Lance’s nose, just to keep his attention. “Their hatred smells like… sulfur. In the arena, they  _ reeked  _ of it. When I met Ulaz, he didn’t smell anything like that. It was more like the smell of pepper, really, being near him. I learned to associate pepper with genuineness in their kind. And Lotor? I get  _ distinct _ pepper vibes from him.”

   Lance blinked in confusion. “So… you trust Lotor because you think he smells a bit like  _ pepper _ ?”

   “I know it sounds stupid, Lance.  _ Trust  _ me, I  _ know.  _ But it’s true. I trust him because I  _ know _ that smell. It’s like a message specifically for  _ me _ . I don’t expect you to trust him the way I do since you don’t have the senses that I do, but I will ask you to understand and trust  _ me _ on this. Not him.  _ Me. _ Can you do that?”

   Lance was silent for a moment. Despite the nagging feeling that he shouldn’t trust Lotor, he knew better than to withhold trust from Shiro. So he nodded and said, “Yeah. I trust you.” His eyes fluttered shut when Shiro thanked him and kissed him again. And while Lance was busy trusting Shiro on this, Shiro was getting better at trusting himself. Lance tilted his head to the side when Shiro started trying to get access to it, allowing him to shower the usual spot with affection before digging his fangs into the skin.

   Since the first time Shiro drank from Lance, there had been a significant improvement in his self-worth. Every time they did this, Shiro found the self-control he needed to keep himself from ending the life he held in his hands. Either he stopped when he was done, or Lance asked him to stop and, somehow, he  _ did _ . Maybe he had been afraid of nothing. When the image of the child from the arena cells flashed into his mind, he shoved it right back out. There was no excuse for what he had done, but maybe there was a justification. He hadn’t been able to help himself then because, for a moment, he didn’t see the child as a  _ person _ , just a meal waiting to happen; he was ashamed— _ so _ ashamed—of that, even if he didn’t have much of a conscious say in the matter. He had noticed early on that it was different with Lance. Lance wasn’t just some unfamiliar face, some random being that he didn’t know from Adam, no, Lance was  _ his _ . His right hand in Voltron. His boyfriend. His love.

_    His. _

   Somehow, that sense of possession made everything easier.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE GETTIN' INTO SEASON FIVE TERRITORY HERE FOLKS BUCKLE UP IT GETS FUN NOW
> 
> Seriously, though. There's one glaring problem with me writing this as a slightly alternate canon: I need canon material to work with. I knoooow, I could just take over from there when I run out of season five based material since it's AN AU, but that kinda defeats the purpose of the "alternate canon" feel I've been going for. I can probably squeeze out a couple more canon-based chapters from season five material, then maybe write a filler chapter or two, but we gotta face the reality that season six doesn't come out until summer. If I get caught up and manage to eke out a couple filler chapters before then, we'll still end up having to take some kind of break. I don't wanna say "hiatus" since I personally associate the word "hiatus" with that LONG DEPRESSING ASS FALL OUT BOY HIATUS I HAD TO SUFFER THROUGH FOR ALL THOSE YEARS, so. If it comes to that, which is still an "if" but looks pretty likely from my perspective, it's a break. Until we have to directly face that, though, I hope everyone continues to enjoy this silly little vamp au of mine ;u;

**Author's Note:**

> And as any and all of my regular readers should know by now, you can always come see me on Twitter at https://twitter.com/alifeinpastels ~


End file.
